LIBRARY 

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Theological     Seminary, 

PRINCETON.     N.    J.'' 

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CHRIST 


INHERITANCE   OF  THE  SAINTS. 


WORKS  BY  THOMAS  GUTHRIE,  D.D. 


I. 

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CHRIST 


INHEEITANCE  OF  THE  SAINTS 


ILLUSTRATED  IN  A  SERIES  OF  DISCOURSES  FROM 
ST.  PAUL'S  EPISTLE  TO  THE  COLOSSIANS. 


THOMAS  GUTHRIE,  r).D. 

AUTHOR  OP   "PLEAS  FOB  KAGGKD  SCHOOLS,"   ETC. 


SEVENTEENTH     THOUSAND, 


EDINBURGH: 
ADAM    AND    CHARLES    BLACK. 

MDCCOLXII. 


PH.'MKn    I.Y    R,    AND    B.    CLARK,    EDINBUHOH. 


TO 
THE  RIGHT  HONOURABLE 

FOX    LORD    PANMURE,   K.T.,   G.C.B 

AS  AN  EXPRESSION  OF  RESPECT 

FOB 

SERVICES  RENDERED  TO  THE  RELIGIOUS  AND  PUBLIC 
INTERESTS  OF  THE  COUNTRY, 

^  AND   OP 

GRATITUDE  FOR  SIS  CONSTANT  FRIENDSHIP  TO 
THE  AUTHOR. 


Edinburgh,  Novbmbeb  1858. 


DISCOURSES. 


♦ 

PAGI 

I.  The  Inheritance ,         .        .  1 

II.  The  Power  of  Darkness 23 

III.  The  Power  of  Darkness — continued         ....  40 

IV.  The  Kingdom  of  Christ 60 

V".  The  Kingdom  op  Christ — continued          ....  80 

VI.  The  Translation 98 

-y-    VII.  Redemption 123 

wv'  VIII.  Christ  the  Redeemer 141 

IX.  The  Image  of  God              16.0 

X.  The  Image  of  God — continued  .        .        ,        .         .178 

XL  The  FiRST-BoRN 197 

XII.  The  Creator 215 

XIII.  The  End  of  Creation 2-51 

XIV.  Christ  in  Providence 2.^^0 

XV.  The  Head .  269 


Vlll  CONTENTS. 

PACK 

XVI.  The  REAjy—contimied 289 

XVII.  The  Beginning 309 

XVIII.  The  Fiest-Born  from  the  Dead 326 

XIX.  The  Fulness           .        . 344 

XX.  The  Reconciler 364 


phiiicetg:! 


TH.^OLOG:C:iL# 


''^^m:^''^^-^ 


THE  INHERITANCE. 

Giving  thanks  unto  the  Father,  which  hath  made  us  meet  to  be  partakers 
of  the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light. —Colossians  i.  12. 

/^NE  thing  is  often  set  against  another  in  the  expe- 
rience of  the  Christian ;  and  also  in  the  every-day 
procedure  of  the  providence  of  God.  So  fared  it  with 
Jacob  t'  «t  night  he  slept  in  Bethel.  A  stone  was  his 
pillow,  and  the  cold  hard  ground  his  bed ;  yet,  while 
sleep  sealed  his  eyelids,  he  had  God  himself  to  guard 
his  low-laid  head,  and  dreams  such  as  seldom  bless  a 
couch  of  down.  A  ladder  rose  before  him  in  the  vision 
of  the  night.  It  rested  on  earth,  and  reached  to  the 
stai's.  And  forming  a  highway  for  a  multitude  of  angels, 
who  ascended  and  descended  in  two  dazzling  streams 
of  light,  it  stood  there  the  bright  sign  of  a  redemption 
which  has  restored  the  intercourse  between  earth  and 
heaven,  and  opened  a  path  for  our  return  to  God. 

Now,  the  scheme  of  salvation,  of  which  that  ladder 
was  a  glorious  emblem,  may  be  traversed  in  either  of 
these  two  ways.  In  studying  it,  we  may  descend  by 
the  steps  that  lead  from  the  cause  to  the  consumma- 

B 


THE  INHERITANCE. 


tion,  or,  taking  the  opposite  course,  we  may  rise  from 
the  consummation  to  the  cause.  So  —  as  a  matter 
sometimes  of  taste,  sometimes  of  judgment — men  do 
in  other  departments  of  study.  The  geographer,  for 
example,  may  follow  a  river,  from  the  lone  mountain- 
tops  where  its  waters  spring,  down  into  the  glen,  into 
which,  eager  to  leave  sterility  behind,  it  leaps  with  a 
joyous  bound;  and  from  thence,  after  resting  a  while 
in  black,  deep,  swirling  pool,  resumes  its  way,  here 
spreading  itself  out  in  glassy  lake,  or  there  winding  like 
a  silver  serpent  through  flowery  meadows  ;  until,  forcing 
a  passage  through  some  rocky  gorge,  it  sweeps  out 
into  the  plain,  to  pursue,  'mid  shady  woods  and  by 
lordly  tower,  through  corn-fields,  by  smiling  villages  and 
busy  towns,  a  course  that,  like  the  life  of  man,  grows 
calmer  as  it  nears  its  end.  Or,  starting  from  the  sea- 
beach,  he  may  trace  the  river  upwards;  till,  passing 
town  and  church,  tower  and  mill,  scattered  hamlet 
and  soHtary  shepherd's  cot,  in  some  mossy  well,  where 
the  wild  deer  drink,  or  mountain  rock  beneath  the 
eagle's  nest,  he  finds  the  place  of  its  birth.  The  bota- 
nist, too,  who  describes  a  tree,  may  begin  with  its  fruit ; 
and  from  this,  whether  huslcy  shell,  or  rugged  cone,  or 
clustering  berry,  he  may  pass  to  the  flower ;  from  that 
to  the  buds;  from  those  to  the  branches;  from  the 
branches  to  the  stem ;  and  from  the  stem  into  the 
gi'ound,  where  he  lays  bare  the  wide-spread  roots,  on 
which — as  states  depend  upon  the  humbler  classes  for 
power,  wealth,  and  worth — the  tree  depends  both  for 
nourishment  and  support.     Or,  reversing  the  plan,  with 


THE  INEERITANCE. 


equal  justice  to  his  subject,  and  advantage  to  his  pupils, 
he  may  begin  at  the  root  and  end  with  the  fruit. 

The  inspired  writers,  in  setting  forth  salvation, 
adopt  sometimes  the  one  course,  and  sometimes  the 
other.  With  Paul,  for  instance,  the  subject  of  heaven 
now  introduces  Christ,  and  now  from  Christ,  the  Apostle 
turns  to  expatiate  on  the  joys  of  heaven.  Here,  as  on 
an  angel's  wing  that  sheds  light  on  every  step,  we  see  him 
ascending,  and  there  descending,  the  ladder.  Taking 
flight  from  the  cross,  he  soars  upward  to  the  crown  ;  and 
now,  like  an  eagle  sweeping  down  from  the  bosom  of  a 
golden  cloud,  he  leaves  the  throne  of  the  Redeemer  to 
alight  on  the  heights  of  Calvary.  As  an  example  of  the 
ascending  method,  we  have  that  well-known  passage  in 
his  epistle  to  the  Romans — "  For  whom  he  did  fore- 
know, he  also  did  predestinate  to  be  conformed  to  the 
image  of  his  Son,  that  he  might  be  the  first-born 
among  many  brethren :  moreover,  whom  he  did  pre- 
destinate, them  he  also  called;  and  whom  he  called, 
them  he  also  justified ;  and  whom  he  justified,  them 
he  also  glorified."  There  we  pass  from  the  root  to 
the  fi-uit,  from  the  cause,  step  by  step,  to  its  efiects ; 
here  again  Paul  guides  us  upward  along  the  stream 
of  blessings  to  their  perennial  fountain.  He  first 
shews  the  precious  gift,  and  then  reveals  the  gracious 
giver;  the  purchase  first,  and  afterwards  the  divine 
Purchaser.  From  the  crown  of  glory,  flashing  on 
the  brow  of  a  Magdalene,  he  turns  our  dazzled  eyes 
to  another  crown,  a  trophy  hung  upon  a  cross ;  a 
wreath  of  thorns,  armed  with  long  sharp  spikes — each. 


THE  INHERITANCE. 


in  place  of  a  pearly  gem,  tipped  with  a  drop  of  blood. 
He  first  introduces  us  to  heaven  as  our  inalienable  heri- 
tage, and  then  to  the  throne  and  person  of  him  who 
won  heaven  for  us.  He  conducts  us  up  to  Jesus,  that 
we  may  fall  at  his  feet  with  adoring  gratitude,  and  join 
in  spirit  the  saintly  throng  who  dwell  in  the  full  fruition 
of  his  presence,  and  praise  him  throughout  eternity. 

The  words  of  my  text,  and  those  also  of  the  verse 
which  follows  it,  are  introductory  to  a  sublime  descrip- 
tion of  Jesus  Christ — a  picture  to  which,  after  consider- 
ing these  preliminary  verses,  we  intend  to  draw  your 
attention.  To  the  eye  both  of  saints  and  sinners  it 
presents  a  noble  subject.  If  his  great  forerunner  felt 
himself  unworthy  even  to  loose  the  latchet  of  his  shoes, 
how  unworthy  are  these  hands  to  sustain  a  theme  so 
sacred  and  sublime.  May  he  who  ordaineth  strength 
"  out  of  the  mouth  of  babes  and  sucklings,"  without 
whose  aid  the  strongest  are  weak,  and  by  w^hose  help 
the  weakest  are  strong,  fulfil  among  us  his  own  great 
and  gracious  promise — *'  I,  if  I  be  lifted  up  from  the 
earth,  will  draw  all  men  unto  me !" 

Turning  your  attention,  meanwhile,  to  the  matter 
of  these  introductory  verses,  I  remark — 

I.  Heaven  is  an  Inheritance. 

Examples,  at  once,  of  pride  and  poverty — how- 
prone  are  men  to  attach  importance  to  their  own 
works,  and  to  seek  at  least  some  shining  points  of 
goodness  in  them — hke  grains  of  gold  in  a  mass  of 


THE  INHERITANCE. 


rock  I  We  are  loth  to  believe  that  those  things  for 
which  others  esteem,  and  love,  and  praise  us,  and  even, 
perhaps,  crown  our  brows  with  laurel,  apart  from  Christ, 
have  no  merit ;  but  appear  in  the  sight  of  the  holy  and 
heart-searching  God  as,  to  use  a  Bible  phrase,  "  filthy 
rags."  It  is  not  easy  to  bring  human  pride,  no,  nor 
human  reason,  to  admit  that;  to  believe  that  the 
loveliest,  the  purest,  the  most  virtuous  of  womankind, 
a  mother's  pride  and  a  household's  honour,  must  be 
saved,  as  the  vilest  outcast  is  saved — as  a  brand  plucked 
out  of  the  fire,  or  he  of  whom  God  said,  "  Take  away 
the  filthy  garments  from  him.  Behold  I  have  caused 
thine  iniquity  to  pass  from  thee,  and  I  will  clothe  thee 
with  change  of  raiment." 

These  feelings  arise  in  part,  perhaps,  from  a  secret 
suspicion,  that,  if  our  works  be  entirely  destitute  of 
merit,  they  must  at  the  same  time  disincline  God  to 
save  us,  and  disqualify  us  for  being  saved.  But  how 
base,  unscriptural,  God-dishonouring  is  this  fear  !  One 
would  think  that  the  parable  of  the  prodigal  had  been 
recorded  to  refute  it.  There,  recognising  him  from 
afar,  God,  under  the  emblem  of  an  earthly  father,  runs 
to  embrace  his  son,  all  foul  and  ragged  as  he  is  j  he 
holds  him  in  his  arms  ;  he  drowns  his  confession  in 
this  great  cry  of  joy,  ''  Bring  forth  the  best  robe,  and 
put  it  on  him ;  and  put  a  ring  on  his  hand,  and  shoes 
on  his  feet ;  and  bring  hither  the  fatted  calf,  and  kill 
it ;  and  let  us  eat,  and  be  merry :  for  this  my  son  was 
dead,  and  is  alive  again  ;  he  was  lost,  and  is  foimd." 
Nature  herself  proves  it  false  by  every  little  child  who 


THE  INHERITANCE. 


lifts  its  hands  and  prayer  to  God  as  "  Our  Father  which 
art  in  heaven."  What  idea  has  he  formed  of  God  who 
expects  less  of  him  than  he  would  expect  of  any  earthly 
mother  ?  Let  her  he  a  queen.  She  is  a  mother  ;  and 
under  the  impulse  of  feelings  that  reign  alike  in  palaces 
and  in  cottages,  how  would  that  woman  spring  from 
her  throne  to  embrace  a  lost  babe ;  and,  weeping  tears 
of  joy,  press  it  to  her  jewelled  bosom,  though  plucked 
from  the  foulest  ditch,  and  wrapped  in  tainted  rags  ? 
He  knows  little  of  human  nature,  fallen  as  it  is,  who 
fancies  any  mother  turning  from  the  plaintive  cry  and 
imploring  arms  of  her  offspring  because,  forsooth,  it  was 
restored  to  her  in  loathsome  attire.  And  he  is  still 
more  ignorant  of  "the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Cliribt "  who  fancies  that,  unless  man  can  make 
out  some  merit,  he  will  receive  no  mercy.  Blessed  be 
his  name,  "  God  commendeth  his  love  toward  us,  in 
that,  while  we  were  yet  sinners,  Christ  died  for  us." 

Volumes  of  theology  have  been  written,  and  long 
controversies  have  waxed  hot,  about  the  question — 
whether  heaven  is,  or  is  not,  in  part,  the  reward  of 
our  own  good  works?  Now  it  appears  to  me  that 
there  is  one  word  in  my  text,  whose  voice  authorita- 
tively and  summarily  settles  that  matter ;  and  would 
have  always  settled  it,  had  not  men's  hearts  been  fired 
with  angry  passions,  and  their  ears  confused  with  the 
din  of  battle.  That  word  is — inheritance.  What  is 
inheritance  ?  The  pay  of  a  soldier  is  not  inheritance  ; 
neither  are  the  fees  of  a  lawyer  or  of  a  physician  ;  nor 
the  gains  of  trade  j  nor  the  wages  of  labour.    Rewards  of 


THE  INHEKITANCE. 


toil  or  skill,  these  are  earned  by  the  hands  that  receive 
them.  What  is  mherited,  on  the  other  hand,  may  be 
the  property  of  a  new-born  babe ;  and  so  you  may  see 
the  coronet,  which  was  won  by  the  stout  arm  of  valour, 
and  first  blazoned  on  a  battered  shield,  standing  above 
the  cradle  of  a  wailing  infant.  True,  the  ample  estate, 
the  noble  rank,  the  hereditary  honours  were  won.  But 
they  that  won  them  are  long  dead  ; — "  their  swords  are 
rust,  their  bodies  dust  j "  and  underneath  tattered 
banners,  once  borne  before  them  in  bloody  fight,  but 
now  hung  high  in  the  house  of  God,  the  grim  old  barons 
sleep  in  their  marble  tombs.  The  rewards  of  their 
prowess  and  patriotism  have  descended  to  their  succes- 
sors ;  who,  holding  these,  enjoy  honours  and  estates, 
which  we  do  not  grudge  them,  but  which  their  wealth 
never  bought,  and  their  courage  never  won. 

Thus  the  saints  hold  heaven.  In  the  terras  of  a 
court  of  law,  it  is  theirs,  not  by  conquest,  but  by  herit- 
age. Won  by  another  arm  than  theirs,  it  presents  the 
strongest  imaginable  contrast  to  the  spectacle  seen  in 
England's  palace  that  day  when  the  king  demanded  to 
know  of  his  assembled  nobles,  by  what  title  they  held 
their  lands?  "What  title?"  At  the  rash  question 
a  hundred  swords  leapt  from  their  scabbards.  Advan- 
(;ing  on  the  alarmed  monarch — "By  these,"  they  repHed, 
"  we  won,  and  by  these  we  will  keep  them."  How 
difierent  the  scene  which  heaven  presents!  All  eyes 
are  fixed  on  Jesus ;  every  look  is  love  ;  gratitude  glows 
in  every  bosom,  and  swells  in  every  song ;  now  with 
golden  harps  they  sound  the    Saviour's    praise ;    and 


8  THE  INHERITANCE. 


now,  descending  from  their  thrones  to  do  him  homage, 
they  cast  their  crowns  in  one  glittering  heap  at  the 
feet  which  were  nailed  on  Calvary.  Look  there,  and 
learn  in  whose  name  to  seek  salvation,  and  through 
whose  merits  to  hope  for  it.  For  the  faith  of  earth 
is  just  a  reflection  of  the  fervours  of  heaven :  this 
the  language  of  both — "  Not  unto  us,  0  Lord,  not  unto 
us,  but  unto  thy  name  give  glory." 

IL  Heaven  is  a  heritage  of  free  grace.  We  have 
no  such  legal  claim  to  heavenly  glory  as  may  be  esta- 
blished to  some  earthly  inheritance.  In  consequence 
of  a  distant  relationship,  in  those  sudden  turns  of  the 
wheel  of  fortune,  which — displaying  the  providence  of 
Him  who  abases  the  proud  and  exalts  the  humble — 
throw  one  family  into  the  dust,  and  another  into  the 
possession  of  unexpected  riches,  the  heir  of  noble  titles 
and  broad  lands  has  started  up  from  the  deepest  obscu- 
rity. And  so  I  have  seen  a  man  come  into  a  court  of 
law,  and,  producing  some  old  moth-eaten  Bible,  with  its 
time-worn  record  of  births,  and  marriages,  and  deaths, 
all  long  ago  forgotten,  or  some  damp,  musty  parch- 
ment, or  some  inscription  copied  from  a  burial-stone, 
which  the  dispute  has  redeemed  from  decay  and  rank 
churchyard  weeds,  lay  a  firm  hand  on  estates  and 
honours  won  long  centuries  ago.  Such  strange  events 
have  happened.  Heirs  have  entered  on  the  pro- 
perty of  those  between  whom  and  them  there  existed 
no  acquaintanceship,  nor  friendship,  nor  fellowship  ;  for 
whom,  in  fact,  they  entertained  no  regard  while  they 


THE  INHERITANCE. 


lived,  and  whose  memory  they  neither  cherish  in  warm 
hearts,  nor  preserve  in  cold  brass  or  marble.  But  it 
is  by  no  su(;h  obscure  connecition  or  remote  relation- 
ship, that  "  the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light " 
becomes  ours.  We  are  constituted  its  heirs  by  virtue 
of  sonship  ;  we,  who  were  once  afar  off — the  seed  of  the 
serpent,  the  children  of  the  devil,  the  children  of  wrath 
even  as  others — becoming  sons  by  that  act  of  grace, 
which  has  led  many  to  exclaim  with  John,  *'  Behold, 
what  manner  of  love  the  Father  hath  bestowed  upon 
us,  that  we  should  be  called  the  sons  of  God." 

Thus  heaven,  presenting  itself  to  us  in  one  of  its 
most  engaging  aspects,  is  not  only  an  inheritance,  but 
a  home.  Oh !  how  sweet  that  word  !  What  beautiful 
and  tender  associations  cluster  thick  around  it !  Com- 
pared with  it,  house,  mansion,  palace,  are  cold  heartless 
terms.  But  home !  that  word  quickens  the  pulse, 
warms  the  heart,  stirs  the  soul  to  its  depths,  makes  age 
feel  young  again,  rouses  apathy  into  energy,  sustains 
the  sailor  on  his  midnight  watch,  inspires  the  soldier 
with  courage  on  the  field  of  battle,  and  imparts  patient 
endurance  to  the  worn-down  sons  of  toil !  The  thought 
of  it  has  proved  a  sevenfold  shield  to  virtue  ;  the  very 
name  of  it  has  been  a  spell  to  call  back  the  wanderer  from 
the  paths  of  vice ;  and,  far  away,  where  myrtles  bloom 
and  palm  trees  wave,  and  the  ocean  sleeps  upon  coral 
strands,  to  the  exile's  fond  fancy  it  clothes  the  naked 
rock,  or  stormy  shore,  or  barren  moor,  or  wild  Highland 
mountain,  with  charms  he  weeps  to  think  of,  and  longs 
once  more  to  see.   Grace  sanctifies  these  lovely  affections, 


10  THE  INHERITANCE. 

and  imparts  a  sacredness  to  the  homes  of  earth  by 
making  them  types  of  heaven.  As  a  home  the  believer 
dehghts  to  think  of  it.  Thus  when,  lately  bending 
over  a  dying  saint,  and  expressing  our  sorrow  to  see 
him  laid  so  low,  with  the  radiant  countenance  rather 
of  one  who  had  just  left  heaven,  than  of  one  about  to 
enter  it,  he  raised  and  clasped  his  hands,  and  exclaimed 
in  ecstasy,  "  /  am  going  homey  Happy  the  family 
of  which  God  is  the  father,  Jesus  the  elder  brother, 
and  all  the  ''  saints  in  light"  are  brethren — brethren 
born  of  one  Spirit;  nursed  at  the  full  breast  of  the 
same  promises;  trained  in  the  same  high  school  of 
heavenly  discipline ;  seated  at  the  same  table ;  and 
gathered  all  where  the  innocent  loves  of  earth  are  not 
quenched,  but  purified ;  not  destroyed,  but  refined  ! 
To  that  family  circle  every  accession  forms  a  subject  of 
gratitude  and  praise ;  and  every  new-comer  receives 
such  welcome  as  a  mother,  while  she  falls  on  his  manly 
breast,  gives  her  son,  or  as  sisters,  locked  in  his  arms,  with 
theirs  entwined  around  him,  give  the  brother  whom  they 
have  got  safe  back  from  wreck  and  storm,  or  the  bloody 
fields  of  war.  So  when,  on  returning  home  after  weary 
journeys  and  a  tedious  absence,  we  have  found  that  the 
whole  household  was  moved,  and  that  all,  down  even  to 
the  tottering  babe,  with  outstretched  hands,  and  beam- 
ing faces,  and  joyful  welcomes,  were  at  the  door  to  meet 
us,  we  have  thought,  it  shall  be  thus  at  the  gates  of 
glory.  What  a  meeting  there  of  parents  and  children, 
brothers  and  sisters,  and  death-divided  friends  !  What 
mutual  gratulations !     What   overflowing  joy !     And, 


THE  INHERITANCE.  II 


when  they  have  led  our  spirit  up  through  the  long  line 
of  loving  angels  to  the  throne,  what  happiness  to  see 
Jesus,  and  get  our  warmest  welcome  from  the  lips  of 
him  who  redeemed  us  by  his  blood,  and,  in  the  agonies 
of  his  cross,  suffered  for  us  more  than  a  mother's  pangs 
— "the  travail  of  his  soul." 

Heir  of  grace !  thy  estate  lies  there.  Child  of  God  ! 
thy  Father,  and  Saviour,  and  brethren,  and  sisters,  are 
there.  Pilgrim  to  Sion,  be  ever  pressing  on  and  ever 
looking  up !  thy  true  home  is  there  ;  a  home  above 
these  blue  skies,  above  sun  and  stars  ;  a  sweet,  saintly, 
glorious  home — whose  rest  shall  be  all  the  sweeter  for 
the  pelting  of  the  storm,  thy  rugged  path,  the  sorrows 
and  the  tears  of  earth — and  whose  light  shall  be  all  the 
brighter  for  that  "  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,"  from 
which  thou  shalt  pass  into  the  blaze  of  everlasting  day. 
Believer !  I  congratulate  thee  on  thy  prospects.  Lift 
up  thy  cast-down  head ;  let  thy  port,  man,  be  worthy 
of  thy  coming  fortunes.  Bear  thyself  as  one  who  shall 
wear  a  holy  crown ;  as  one  who,  however  humble  thy 
present  lot,  is  training  for  the  highest  society.  Culti- 
vate the  temper,  and  acquire  the  manners,  and  learn  the 
language  of  heaven ;  nor  let  the  wealth  or  poverty,  the 
joys  or  sorrows,  the  shame  or  honours  of  thy  earthly 
state,  ever  make  thee  forget  "  the  inheritance  which  is 
incorruptible  and  undefiled,  and  that  fadeth  not  away, 
reserved  in  heaven  for  you." 


12  THE  INHERITANCE. 


III.  The  heirs  of  heaven  require  to  be  made  meet 
for  the  inheritance. 

I  knew  a  man  who  had  amassed  great  wealth ;  but 
had  no  children  to  inherit  it.  He  lost  the  opportunity, 
which  one  would  think  good  men  would  more  frequently 
embrace,  of  leaving  Christ  his  heir,  and  bequeathing  to 
the  cause  of  religion  what  he  could  not  carry  away. 
Smitten,  however,  with  the  vain  and  strange  propensity 
to  found  a  house,  or  make  a  family,  as  it  is  called,  he 
left  his  riches  to  a  distant  relative.  His  successor  found 
himself  suddenly  raised  from  poverty  to  affluence,  and 
thrown  into  a  position  which  he  had  not  been  trained 
to  fill.  He  was  cast  into  the  society  of  those  to  whose 
tastes,  and  habits,  and  accomplishments  he  was  an  utter 
and  an  awkward  stranger.  Did  many  envy  this  child  of 
fortune  ?  They  might  have  spared  their  envy.  Left 
in  his  original  obscurity  he  had  been  a  happy  peasant, 
whistling  his  way  home  from  the  plough  to  a  thatch-roofed 
cottage,  or  on  winter  nights,  and  around  the  blazing 
faggots,  laughing  loud  and  merry  among  unpolished 
boors.  Child  of  misfortune  !  he  buried  his  happiness 
in  the  grave  of  his  benefactor.  Neither  qualified  by 
nature,  nor  fitted  by  education,  for  his  position,  he  was 
separated  from  his  old,  only  to  be  despised  by  his  new 
associates.  And  how  bitterly  was  he  disappointed  to 
find,  that,  in  exchanging  poverty  for  opulence,  daily  toil 
for  luxurious  indolence,  humble  friends  for  more  distin- 
guished companions,  a  hard  bed  for  one  of  down,  this 


THE  INHEKITANCE.  13 


turn  in  his  fortunes  had  flung  him  on  a  couch,  not  of 
roses,  but  of  thorns !  In  his  case,  the  hopes  of  the 
living  and  the  intentions  of  the  dead  were  alike  frus- 
trated. The  prize  had  proved  a  blank ;  a  necessary 
result  of  this  fatal  oversight,  that  the  heir  had  not  been 
made  meet  for  the  inheritance. 

Is  such  training  needful  for  an  earthly  estate  ? 
How  much  more  for  the  "  inheritance  of  the  saints  in 
light !"  "  Except  a  man  be  born  again,  he  cannot  see 
the  kingdom  of  God."  No  change  to  a  condition  how- 
ever lofty — no  elevation  from  the  lowest  obscurity  to 
the  highest  honour,  from  abject  poverty  to  the  greatest 
affluence,  adequately  represents  the  difference  between 
the  state  of  sin  in  which  grace  finds  us,  and  the  state 
of  glory  to  which  it  raises  us.  The  most  ignorant  and 
debased  of  our  city  outcasts,  the  most  wretched  and 
loathsome  wanderer  of  these  streets,  is  not  so  unfit  to 
be  received  into  the  holy  bosom  of  a  Christian  family, 
as  you  are,  by  nature,  to  be  received  into  the  kingdom 
of  heaven.  A  sinner  there  were  more  out  of  place 
than  a  ragged  beggar  in  a  royal  palace,  where,  all  gazing 
at  his  appearance  with  astonishment,  and  shrinking  back 
from  his  defiling  touch,  he  rudely  thrusts  himself  within 
the  biilliant  circle.  Compared  with  the  difference  be- 
tween a  man,  as  grace  finds  him,  and  heaven  gets  him, 
how  feeble  are  all  earthly  distinctions !  They  sink  into 
nothing.  So  unheavenly,  in  truth,  is  our  nature,  that 
unless  we  were  made  meet  for  the  inheritance,  we  were 
no  honour  to  it,  nor  were  it  any  happiness  to  us. 

What,  for  instance,  were  the  most  tempting  banquet 


14  THE  INHERITANCE. 


to  one  without  appetite,  sick,  loathing  the  very  sight 
and  smell  of  food  ?  To  a  man  stone-deaf,  what  the 
boldest  blast  of  trumpet,  the  roll  of  drums,  stirring  the 
soldier's  soul  to  deeds  of  daring  valour,  or  the  finest 
music  that  ever  fell  on  charmed  ear,  and  seemed  to 
bear  the  spirit  on  its  waves  of  sound  up  to  the  gates 
of  heaven?  Or,  what,  to  one  stone-blind,  a  scene  to 
which  beauty  has  lent  its  charms,  and  sublimity  its 
grandeur, — the  valley  clad  in  a  many -coloured  robe 
of  flowers,  the  gleaming  lake,  the  flashing  cascade,  the 
foaming  torrent,  the  dark  climbing  forest,  the  brave 
trees  that  cling  to  the  frowning  crags,  the  rocky 
pinnacles,  and,  high  over  all,  hoary  winter  looking  down 
on  summer  from  her  throne  on  the  Alps'  untrodden 
snows  ?  Just  what  heaven  would  be  to  man  with  his 
ruined  nature,  his  low  passions,  and  his  dark  guilty 
conscience.  Incapable  of  appreciating  its  holy  beauties, 
of  enjoying  its  holy  happiness,  he  would  find  nothing 
there  to  delight  his  senses.  How  he  would  wonder  in 
what  its  pleasures  lay ;  and,  supposing  him  once  there, 
were  there  a  place  of  safety  out  of  it,  how  he  would 
long  to  be  away,  and  keep  his  eye  on  the  gate  to  watch 
its  opening,  and  escape  as  from  a  doleful  prison  !  Such 
an  inheritance  were  to  such  a  man  like  the  gift  of  a 
noble  library  to  a  plumed,  painted  savage.  As,  igno- 
rant of  letters,  he  stalked  from  hall  to  hall  amid  the 
wisdom  of  bygone  ages,  and  rolled  his  restless  eyes 
oVer  the  unappreciated  treasures,  how  he  would  sigh 
to  be  back  to  his  native  forests,  where  he  might  sit 
among  his  tribe  at  the  council-fire,  or  raise  his  war- 


THE  INHERITANCE.  15 


whoop,  or  hunt  down  the  deer.  People  talk  strangely 
of  going  to  heaven  when  they  die ;  but  what  gratifica- 
tion could  it  possibly  afford  a  man  whose  enjoyments  are 
of  a  sensuous  or  sensual  nature, — whose  only  pleasure 
lies  in  the  acquisition  of  worldly  objects,  or  the  gratifi- 
cation of  brutal  appetites  ?  You  hope  to  go  to  heaven ! 
I  hope  you  will.  But,  unless  your  heart  is  sanctified 
and  renewed,  what  were  heaven  to  you  ?  an  abhorrent 
vacuum.  The  day  that  took  you  there  would  end  all 
enjoyment,  and  throw  you,  a  castaway,  upon  a  solitude 
more  lonely  than  a  desert  island.  Neither  angels  nor 
saints  would  seek  your  company,  nor  would  you  seek 
theirs.  Unable  to  join  in  their  hallowed  employments, 
to  sympathise  with,  or  even  to  understand  their  holy 
joys,  you  would  feel  more  desolate  in  heaven  than  we 
have  done  in  the  heart  of  a  great  city,  without  one 
friend,  jostled  by  crowds,  but  crowds  who  spoke  a  lan- 
guage we  did  not  understand,  and  were  aliens  alike  in 
dress  and  manners,  in  language,  blood,  and  faith. 

It  is  the  curse  of  vice,  that,  where  its  desires  out- 
live the  power  of  gratification,  or  are  denied  the  oppor- 
tunity of  indulgence,  they  become  a  punishment  and  a 
torment.  Denied  all  opportunity  of  indulgence,  what 
would  a  drunkard  do  in  heaven  ?  Or,  a  glutton  ?  Or, 
a  voluptuary?  Or,  an  ambitious  man  ?  Or,  a  worldling  ? 
one  whose  soul  lies  buried  in  a  heap  of  gold  ?  Or, 
she,  who,  neglecting  quite  as  much  the  noble  purposes 
of  ier  being,  flits,  life  through,  a  painted  butterfly,  from 
flower  to  flower  of  pleasure,  and  wastes  the  day  of  grace 
in  the  idolatry  and  adornment  of  a  form  which  death 


16  THE  INHERITANCE. 


shall  change  into  utter  loathsomeness,  and  the  grave 
into  a  heap  of  dust?  These  would  hear  no  sounds  of 
ecstasy,  would  see  no  brightness,  would  smell  no  per- 
fumes, in  paradise.  But,  weeping  and  wringing  their 
hands,  they  would  wander  up  and  down  the  golden 
streets  to  bewail  their  death,  crying — *'  The  days 
have  come  in  which  we  have  no  pleasure  in  them." 
On  that  eternal  Sabbath, — from  which  nor  fields, 
nor  news,  nor  business  would  afford  escape, — what 
would  they  do,  who  hear  no  music  in  church  bells,  and 
say  of  holy  services,  *'  When  will  they  be  over?" 
Oh,  the  slow,  weary  march  of  the  hours  of  never- 
ending  Sabbath  devotions !  Oh,  the  painful  glare  of  a 
never-setting  Sabbath  sun!  Than  go  down  to  hell, 
than  perish  in  the  coming  storm,  they  would  turn  their 
prow  to  heaven ;  but  only  as  the  last  refuge  of  a  sinking 
bark, — a  safe,  it  may  be,  but  yet  a  friendless  shore. 
Unlike  the  happy  swallows  which  David  envied,  thy 
altar,  0  God,  is  the  very  last  spot  where  many  would 
choose  to  build  their  nests ! 

Such  is  by  nature  the  disposition  of  all  of  us.  "  The 
heart  is  desperately  wicked."  *'  The  carnal  mind"  has 
an  aversion  to  spiritual  duties,  and  an  utter  distaste  for 
spiritual  enjoyments.  Nor  is  that  all  the  truth.  How- 
ever it  may  lie  (joncealed,  like  a  worm  in  the  bud,  "  the 
carnal  mind  is  enmity  against  God."  Illustrating  the 
familiar  adage,  "  out  of  sight,  out  of  mind,"  this  feeling 
may  lie  dormant  so  long  as  our  enemy  is  unseen.  But, 
let  him  appear,  and  his  presence  opens  every  old  wound 
afresh,  and   fans  the  smouldering  enmity  into  flame. 


THE  INHERITANCE.  17 


Therefore,  the  heaven  that  purifies  the  saint  would  but 
exasperate  the  hatred  of  the  sinner ;  and  the  more  God's 
holiness  and  glory  were  revealed,  the  more  w^ould  this 
enmity  be  developed — -just  as  the  thicker  the  dews  fall 
on  decaying  timber,  the  faster  the  timber  rots ;  and  the 
more  full  the  sunshine  on  a  noxious  plant,  the  more 
pestilent  its  juices  grow.  It  is  not  in  polar  regions, 
where  the  day  is  night,  and  the  showers  are  snow,  and 
the  rivers  are  moving  ice,  and  slanting  sunbeams  fall 
faint  and  feeble,  but  in  the  climes  where  flowers  are 
fairest,  and  fruits  are  sweetest,  and  fullest  sunshine  warms 
the  air  and  lights  a  cloudless  sky,  that  nature  prepares 
her  deadliest  poisons.  There  the  snake  sounds  its 
ominous  rattle,  and  the  venomous  cobra  lifts  her  hood. 
Even  so  sin,  could  it  strike  root  in  heaven,  would  grow 
more  rankly,  more  hating  and  more  hateful  than  on 
earth,  and  man  would  cast  on  God  an  eye  of  deeper  and 
intenser  enmity. 

Hence  the  need  of  being  made,  by  a  change  of 
heart,  new  creatures  in  Jesus  Christ.  Hence,  also,  the 
need,  which  by  reason  of  indwelling  and  remaining  cor- 
ruption, even  God's  people  daily  feel,  of  getting,  with  a 
title  to  the  heavenly  inheritance,  a  greater  meetness  for 
it.  In  other  words,  you  must  be  sanctified  as  well 
as  saved.  This  work,  so  necessary,  as  we  have  seen,  in 
the  very  nature  of  things,  has  been  assigned  to  the  Holy 
Spirit.  It  was  the  office  of  the  Son  to  purchase  heaven 
for  the  heirs.  And  it  is  the  office  of  the  Spirit  to  prepare 
the  heirs  for  heaven.  Thus  renewed,  purified,  and  at 
length  wholly  sanctified,  we  shall  carry  a  holy  nature  to  a 

B2 


18  THE  INHERITANCE. 

holy  place,  and  be  presented  "  faultless,  before  the  pre- 
sence of  his  glory,  with  exceeding  joy."  But  observe, 
more  particularly, 

IV.  As  heaven  is  the  gift  of  God,  our  meetness  for  it 
is  the  work  of  God. 

In  my  text,  the  apostle  calls  for  thanks  unto  the 
Father.  For  by  whatever  instruments  God  executes 
his  work,  whether  the  means  he  uses  to  sanctify  his 
people  be  dead  books,  or  living  ministers,  be  sweet 
or  severe,  common  or  striking  providences,  the  work 
is  not  theirs,  but  his.  Owing  him,  then,  no  less 
praise  for  the  Spirit  who  makes  us  meet  for  the  inhe- 
ritance, than  for  the  Son  who  purchased  it,  we  give 
thanks  to  God.  The  church  weaves  the  three  names 
into  one  doxology,  singing,  "  Glory  be  to  the  Father, 
and  to  the  Son,  and  to  the  Holy  Ghost." 

Let  me  illustrate  this  point  by  a  reference  to  the 
case  of  Lazarus.  On  the  day  when  he  was  raised  from 
the  dead,  Lazarus  had  two  things  to  thank  Christ  for. 
His  gratitude  was  due  for  what  Jesus  did  without  human 
instrumentality,  and  also  for  what  he  did  by  it ;  both 
for  the  "Lazarus  come  forth!"  that  rent  the  grave, 
and  for  the  "  Loose  him  and  let  him  go !"  that  rent  the 
grave-clothes;  not  only  for  life,  but  for  the  liberty  with- 
out which  life  had  been  a  doubtful  blessing.  Doubtful 
blessing !  What  enjoyment  had  there  been  in  life  so 
long  as  the  face-cloth  was  left  on  his  eyes,  and  his 
limbs  were  bound  fast  in  the  cerements  of  the  tomb  ? 


THE  INHERITANCE.  19 


He  emerges  from  the  grave's  black  moutli  a  living, 
yet  a  startling,  hideous  object,  from  whose  appalling 
form  the  crowd  reels  back,  and  terror-stricken  sisters 
might  be  excused  for  shrinking.  Shrouded  like  a  corpse, 
smelling  of  the  noisome  grave,  with  the  yellow  linen 
muffling  eyes  and  mouth,  every  door  had  been  shut 
against  him,  and  the  streets  of  Bethany  cleared  of 
flying  crowds  by  such  a  frightful  apparition.  Who 
would  have  sat  beside  him  at  the  feast  ?  Who  would 
have  worshipped  with  him  in  the  synagogue  ?  A  public 
terror,  shunned  by  his  dearest  friends,  to  him  life  had 
been  no  boon,  but  a  burden, — a  heavy  load  from  which 
he  had  sought  rehef,  where  many  a  weary  one  has 
found  it,  in  the  deep  oblivion  of  the  tomb.  Had 
Christ  done  no  more  than  bid  Lazarus  live,  I  can  fancy 
his  unhappy  friend  imploring  him  to  resume  the  gift, 
saying.  Take  it  back ;  let  me  return  to  the  quiet 
grave;  the  dead  will  not  shun  me;  and  I  shall  say  to 
corruption,  "  Thou  art  my  father ;  and  to  the  worm, 
Thou  art  my  mother  and  my  sister." 

In  these  circumstances,  the  conduct  of  our  Lord 
illustrates  that  grace  which,  in  whomsoever  it  begins  a 
good  work,  will  carry  it  on  to  the  day  of  the  Lord 
Jesus.  Pointing  to  Lazarus— who  was,  perhaps,  endea- 
vouring at  that  moment,  like  a  newly-awakened  sinner, 
to  fling  off  his  shroud,  and  be  free — he  addresses  the 
spectators,  saying,  "  Loose  him,  and  let  him  go  !"  And 
thus  God  deals  with  renewed  souls.  Liberty  follows 
life.  To  his  Holy  Spirit,  and,  in  a  subordinate  sense, 
to  providence  in  its  dealings^  to  ministers  in  the  pulpit, 


20  THE  INHERITANCE. 


to  parents,  teachers,  and  all  other  human  instruments, 
he  says,  Undo  the  bonds  of  sin, — loose  them,  and  let 
them  go ! 

Now,  to  bring  the  subject  home,  have  we  not  merely 
fancied,  but  have  we  felt,  have  we  solid  scriptural  ground 
for  believing,  that  the  same  spirit-freeing  words  have 
been  spoken  of  us  ?  Have  we  been  freed  from  habits 
that  were  to  us  as  grave-clothes?  And,  emancipated 
from  passions  which  once  enslaved  us,  are  we  now, 
at  least  in  some  measure,  doing  what  David  undertook, 
when  he  said,  "  I  will  run  the  way  of  Thy  com- 
mandments, when  Thou  shalt  enlarge  my  heart?"  In 
growing  holiness, — in  heavenly  desires  that,  flame- like, 
shoot  upward  to  the  skies — in  godly  resolutions  that  aim 
at,  if  they  do  not  always  attain,  a  lofty  mark — "  in  the 
lust  of  the  flesh,"  and  the  ''  pride  of  life,"  nailed  to  a 
cross  where,  if  not  yet  dead,  they  are  dying  daily, — in 
holy  sorrows  that,  like  a  summer  cloud,  while  they  dis- 
charge their  burden  in  tears,  are  spanned  by  a  bow  of 
hope, — in  longings  that  aspire  after  a  purer  state  and  a 
better  land, — in  these  things  have  you  at  once  the 
pledge  of  heaven  and  the  meetness  for  it?  If  so, 
"  this  is  the  Lord's  doing ;  it  is  marveflous  in  our 
eyes."  As  delightful  as  marvellous  !  What  joy,  what 
peace  should  it  impart  to  the  hearts  of  those  who,  feeling 
themselves  less  than  the  least  of  God's  mercies,  unworthy 
of  a  crust  of  bread  or  of  a  cup  of  water,  hail  in  these 
the  bright  tokens  of  a  blood-bought  crown — that  coming 
event  which  casts  its  shadow  before ! 

But  if,  without  this  meetness,  you  are  indulging 


THE  INHERITANCE.  21 


the  hope  that,  when  you  die,  you  will  succeed  to  the 
inheritance — ah!  how  shall  the  event,  the  dreadful 
reality,  undeceive  you!  Ponder  these  words,  I  pray 
you,  "  Without  holiness,  no  man  shall  see  the  Lord," 
"  Without  are  dogs,"  ''  There  shall  in  no  wise  enter 
into  it  anything  that  defileth,  neither  whatsoever  worketh 
abomination,  or  maketh  a  lie ;  but  they  which  are 
written  in  the  Lamb's  book  of  life."  Let  no  man 
delude  himself;  or  believe  that  cunning  devil,  who, — 
unlike  the  ugly  toad  that,  seated  squat  by  the  ear  of 
Eve,  filled  her  troubled  mind  with  horrid  dreams, — 
hovers  over  him  in  the  form  of  a  benignant  angel, 
charming  away  his  fears  with  "  peace,  peace,  when 
there  is  no  peace."  Believe  me,  that  the  only  proof 
that  God  has  chosen  us  is,  that  we  have  chosen  him. 
The  distinguishing  mark  of  heirs  is  some  degree  of 
meetness  for  the  heirship.  In  saints,  the  spirit  is 
willing  even  when  the  flesh  is  weak;  the  body  lags 
behind  the  soul ;  the  affections  outrun  the  feet ;  and 
the  desires  of  those  who  are  bound  for  heaven  are 
often  far  on  the  road  before  themselves.  By  these 
signs  thou  mayest  know  thyself.  Can  you  stand  that 
touchstone  ? 

Ere  autumn  has  tinted  the  woodlands,  or  the  corn- 
fields are  falling  to  the  reaper's  song,  or  hoary  hill-tops, 
like  grey  hairs  on  an  aged  head,  give  warning  of  winter's 
approach,  I  have  seen  the  swallow's  brood  pruning  their 
feathers,  and  putting  their  long  wings  to  the  proof; 
and,  though  they  might  return  to  their  nests  in  the 
window-eaves,  or  alight  again  on  the  house-tops,  they 


THE  INHERITANCE. 


darted  away  in  the  direction  of  sunny  lands.  Thus 
they  showed  that  they  were  birds  bound  for  a  foreign 
clime,  and  that  the  period  of  their  migration  from  the 
scene  of  their  birth  was  nigh  at  hand.  Grace  also 
has  its  prognostics.  They  are  infallible  as  those  of 
nature.  So,  when  the  soul,  filled  with  longings  to  be 
gone,  is  often  darting  away  to  glory,  and,  soaring  up- 
ward, rises  on  the  wings  of  faith,  till  this  great  world, 
from  her  sublime  elevation,  looks  a  little  thing,  God's 
people  know  that  they  have  the  earnest  of  the  Spirit. 
These  are  the  pledges  of  heaven, — a  sure  sign  that 
their  "  redemption  draweth  nigh."  Such  devout 
feelings  afford  the  most  blessed  evidence  that,  with 
Christ  by  the  helm,  and  "  the  wind,"  that  "  bloweth 
where  it  listeth,"  in  our  swelling  sails,  we  are  drawing 
nigh  to  the  land  that  is  afar  off;  even  as  the  reeds, 
and  leaves,  and  fruits  that  float  upon  the  briny  waves, 
as  the  birds  of  strange  and  gorgeous  plumage  that  fly 
round  his  ship  and  alight  upon  its  yards,  as  the  sweet- 
scented  odours  which  the  wind  wafts  out  to  sea^  assure 
the  weary  mariner  that,  ere  long,  he  shall  drop  his 
anchor,  and  end  his  voyage  in  the  desired  haven. 


THE  POWEE  OF  DARKNESS. 

Who  hath  delivered  us  from  the  power  of  darkness. — Colossians  i.  13. 

^HE  stories  of  subterranean  caves,  where  brilliant 
diamonds,  thickly  studding  vaulted  roof  and  fretted 
walls,  supply  the  place  of  lamps,  are  fancies — childhood's 
fairy-tales.  Incredible  as  it  may  appear  to  ignorance, 
on  whose  admiring  eyes  it  flashes  rays  of  light,  science 
proves  that  the  diamond  is  formed  of  the  very  same 
matter  as  common,  dull,  black  coal.  It  boasts  no  native 
light ;  and  dark  in  the  darkness,  as  the  mud  or  rock 
where  it  lies  imbedded,  it  shines,  if  with  a  beautiful, 
yet  with  a  borrowed  splendour.  How  meet  an  emblem 
of  the  priceless  jewels  that  adorn  the  Saviour's  crown  ! 
Besides,  like  many  a  gem  of  man  and  woman  kind, 
the  diamond  is  of  humble  origin.  Its  native  state  is 
mean.  It  lies  buried  in  the  deep  bowels  of  the  earth ; 
and  in  that  condition  is  almost  as  unfit  to  form  a  graceful 
ornament,  as  the  stones  that  pave  our  highways,  as 
the  rudest  pebble  which  ocean,  in  her  play,  rolls  upon 
the  beach.  Unlike  many  other  crystals,  it  is  foul, 
encrusted  with  dirt,  and  inelegant  in  form — flashing 
with  none  of  that  matchless  lustre  which  makes  it  after- 


24  THE  POWER  OF  DARKNESS. 

wards  appear  more  like  a  fragment  struck  from  star 
or  sun,  than  a  product  of  this  dull,  cold  world.  That 
it  may  glow,  and  sparkle,  and  burn  with  many-coloured 
fires,  and  change  into  a  thing  of  beauty,  it  has  to 
undergo  a  rough,  and,  had  it  our  sensibilities  of  nerve 
and  life,  a  painful  process.  The  lapidary  receives  it 
from  the  miner ;  nor,  till  he  has  ground  the  stone  on  his 
flying  wheel,  and  polished  it  with  its  own  dust,  does  it 
pass  into  the  hands  of  the  jeweller  to  be  set  in  a  golden 
crown,  or  become  the  brightest  ornament  of  female 
loveliness.  Through  a  corresponding  preparation  Christ's 
saints  have  to  go.  Are  you  saved?  you  have  to  be 
sanctified.  Are  you  redeemed?  you  have  to  be  re- 
newed. You  are  polluted,  and  requke  to  be  purified ; 
and,  as  all  know  who  have  experienced  it,  at  a  great 
cost  of  pain  and  self-denial,  sin  has  to  be  eradicated — 
utterly  destroyed  ;  in  respect  of  its  dominant  power,  cast 
down ;  and  in  respect  of  its  indwelling  power,  cast  out. 
This  fulfils  the  prayer,  "  The  very  God  of  peace  sanctify 
you  wholly;"  and  for  this,  as  forming  that  meetness  for 
the  inheritance,  which  was  the  subject  of  my  last  address, 
the  saints  are  now  either  offering  up  prayer  on  earth,  or, 
better  far,  praise  and  thanks  in  heaven. 

But  as  the  gem,  ere  it  is  polished,  must  be  brought 
from  the  mine  and  its  naturally  base  condition,  so,  ere 
those  whom  Christ  has  redeemed  with  his  blood  can  be 
sanctified  by  his  Spirit,  they  must  be  called  and  converted; 
they  must  be  brought  into  a  new  condition  ;  or,  in 
the  words  of  my  text,  ''  delivered  from  the  power  of 
darkness,"  and  "  translated  into  the  kingdom  of  God's 


THE  POWER  OF  DARKNESS.  25 

dear  Son."  This,  which  is  the  subject  before  us  now, 
calls  our  attention  to  the  greatest  of  all  changes.  I  say 
the  greatest;  one  even  greater  than  the  marvellous 
transition  which  takes  place  at  the  instant  of  death — 
from  dying  struggles  to  the  glories  of  the  skies. 
Because,  while  heaven  is  the  day  of  which  grace  is 
the  dawn  ;  the  rich,  ripe,  fruit  of  which  grace  is  the 
lovely  flower ;  the  inner  shrine  of  that  most  glorious 
temple  to  which  grace  forms  the  approach  and  outer 
court, — in  passing  from  nature  to  grace  you  did  not 
pass  from  a  lower  to  a  higher  stage  of  the  same  condi- 
tion— from  daybreak  to  sunshine,  but  from  darkest 
night  to  dawn  of  day.  Unlike  the  worm  which 
changes  into  a  winged  insect,  or  the  infant  who  grows 
up  into  a  stately  man,  you  became,  not  a  more  per- 
fect, but  "  a  new  creature  "  in  Jesus  Christ.  And  with 
deepest  gratitude  to  Him  who,  filled  with  pity,  and  for 
"  his  great  love  wherewith  he  loved  us,"  left  heaven  to 
save  us,  let  us  now  consider  our  original  state — *'  look 
unto  the  rock  whence  we  are  hewn,  and  to  the  hole 
of  the  pit  whence  we  are  digged." 

I.  Look  at  our  state  of  nature  and  sin  as  one  of  dark- 
ness. 

In  its  essential  nature,  sin  is  as  opposed  to  holiness 
as  darkness  is  to  light ;  and  as  different,  therefore,  from 
holiness,  as  a  starless  midnight  from  the  blaze  of  noon- 
day. Our  natural  state  is  therefore,  because  of  its  sin- 
fulness, represented  by  the  emblem  of  darkness.  How 
c 


26  THE  POWER  OF  DARKNESS. 

appropriate  and  how  expressive  the  figure !  Hence,  in 
describing  the  condition  of  the  heathen,  those  who 
neither  know  God,  nor  Him  whom  to  know  is  life  eternal, 
the  Bible  says.  The  darkness  shall  cover  the  earth, 
and  gross  darkness  the  people.  Hence,  those  ancient 
prophets  who  lived  in  the  morning  of  the  church — and 
in  the  rosy  east,  and  clouds  already  touched  with  gold, 
saw  a  sun  beneath  the  horizon  hastening  to  his  rise — 
hailed  Jesus,  as  a  light  to  lighten  the  Gentiles,  and 
the  glory  of  His  people  Israel.  Hence  also,  inasmuch 
as  he  reveals  saving  truth,  redeems  from  sin,  and  shines 
upon  the  path  he  himself  has  opened  to  heaven,  Jesus 
stood  before  the  multitude,  and  said,  as  he  raised  his 
hand  to  the  blazing  sun,  "  I  am  the  light  of  the  world." 
Jesus !  Thy  people's  shield,  thou  art  also  thy  people's 
sun ;  a  shield  that  never  breaks  in  battle,  and  a  sun 
that  never  sets  in  night ;  the  source  of  all  the  know- 
ledge that  illumes,  and  of  all  the  love  that  warms  us ; 
with  healing,  as  well  as  heating  virtue  in  thy  beams, 
thou  art  "  The  sun  of  righteousness  with  healing  in  his 
wings." 

To  that  emblem  of  our  Saviour,  so  splendid  and  yet 
so  simple,  science  imparts  additional  appropriateness,  if 
the  theory  be  true  that  accounts  for  those  vast  stores  of 
light  and  heat  which  we  extract  from  dead  dark  coal. 
The  coal,  which  we  raise  from  the  bowels  of  the  earth, 
once  grew  upon  its  surface.  Some  ten  or  twenty 
thousand  years  ago,  it  formed  the  giant  forests  where 
mighty  monsters  ranged  at  will  over  an  unpeopled 
world.      After  this  rank  vegetation  had  incorporated 


THE  POWER  OF  DARKNESS.  27 

into  its  substance  those  elements  of  light  and  heat 
which  the  sun  poured  down  from  heaven,  God,  provident 
of  the  wants  of  a  race  not  yet  created,  buried  it  in  the 
earth ;  and  thus  furnished  our  world  with  ample  stores 
of  fuel  for  the  future  use  of  man.  So,  when  the  sun 
has  set,  and  the  birds  have  gone  to  roost,  and  the  stars 
have  come  out  in  the  sky,  and  the  door  is  shut,  and  the 
curtains  are  drawn,  and  peace  and  happiness  smile  on 
the  bright  family  circle,  it  is  sun-light  that  shines  from 
the  lustres,  and  sun-heat  that  glow^s  on  the  hearth.  But 
w^hether  that  speculation  of  science  be  true  or  false,  to 
Jesus  we  can  trace  all  the  light,  direct  or  derived,  which 
illuminates  the  world.  Heavenly  fountain  of  the  love  that 
warms  and  the  truth  that  enlightens  mankind,  he  rose  like 
a  sun  on  this  cold  benighted  earth ;  and  will  be  the  centre 
around  which  heaven  itself  shall  roll  when  tides  have  ceased 
to  flow  below,  and  suns  to  shine  above.  "  The  city  had 
no  need  of  the  sun,  neither  of  the  moon,  to  shine  in  it, 
for  the  glory  of  God  did  lighten  it,  and  the  Lamb  is  the 
light  thereof." 

But,  turning  from  the  Saviour  to  contemplate  the 
sinner,  I  pray  you  to  observe,  that  our  state  by  nature 
is  one  not  merely  of  darkness,  but  of  double  darkness. 
It  is  always  dark,  pitch  dark,  even  at  noonday,  to  the 
blind;  nor  blazing  sun,  nor  shining  stars  to  them. 
With  God  "  the  night  shineth  as  the  day,"  but  to  the 
unhappy  blind,  **  He  maketh  the  day  dark  -with  night." 
Yet  strong  as  this  figure  is,  it  does  not  adequately  re- 
present the  full  misery  of  our  condition.  We  had 
neither  light  nor  sight.     That  we  may  be  saved,  do 


28  THE  POWER  OF  DARKNESS. 

you  not  perceive  that  two  things,  therefore,  must  be 
done  for  us  ?  We  require  a  medium  to  see  by,  as  well 
as  eyes  to  see  with;  to  the  revelation  of  the  Gospel 
must  be  added  the  regeneration  of  the  Holy  Spirit ;  in 
other  words,  we  must  have  in  Christ  an  object  for  faith 
to  see,  and  in  faith  we  must  have  eyes  to  see  Christ. 
Inhabitants  of  a  Christian  land,  we  possess  one  of  these, 
— like  the  Hebrews  in  Goshen  we  have  light  in  our 
dwellings ;  and  so  far  we  differ  from  the  heathen,  for 
they  have  neither  light  nor  sight.  They  live  in  dark- 
ness so  gross,  that  they  do  not  distinguish  purity  from 
pollution.  They  have  no  more  idea  of  the  way  of  sal- 
vation, than  the  blind  have  of  colours.  They  do  not 
know  God.  Some  worship  a  cow;  some  a  serpent ;  some 
a  stone  ;  some  the  very  Devil.  In  them,  reason  crouches 
to  adore  a  beast ;  and  man,  made  in  the  image  of  God, 
bows  his  erect  form  and  noble  head  before  a  lifeless 
block.  When,  from  the  study  of  that  instinctive  and 
unerring  wisdom  with  which  the  lower  animals — the 
stork  in  the  period  of  her  migrations,  the  bee  in  the 
construction  of  its  cell — act  in  their  allotted  spheres, 
we  turn  to  this  amazing,  and  all  but  incredible  sense- 
lessness, and  stupidity  of  man,  what  an  illnstration  have 
we  of  the  saying,  "  If  therefore  the  light  that  is  in 
thee  be  darkness,  how  great  is  that  darkness!" 

But  we,  who  dwell  in  this  land,  as  I  have  already 
said,  live  in  light.  Like  the  angel  whom  John  saw,  we 
staud  in  the  sun.  Comparing  it  with  most  other  lands, 
we  may,  at  least,  (;all  our  island-home  a  Goshen.  Let 
those  boast  their  balmy  air,  and  richer  fruits,  and  sunnier 


THE  POWER  OF  DARKNESS.  29 

skies !  In  our  religious  as  well  as  civil  advantages,  we 
enjoy  blessings  that  more  than  compensate  for  the 
gloomy  fogs  that  veil  these  skies,  and  the  storms  that 
rage  on  our  iron-bound  shores.  Our  lines  have  fallen 
in  pleasant  pla(;es,  and  happy  the  land,  nor  to  be  rashly 
left,  where  the  light  of  divine  truth  streams  from  a 
thousand  printing-presses,  and  the  candle  of  the  Lord 
shines  bright  in  its  humblest  cottages.  May  I  not  say 
that,  with  their  multitude  of  churches,  our  cities  are 
illuminated  every  Sabbath,  to  celebrate  the  triumphs  of 
the  cross,  the  great  battle  that  was  won  on  the  heights 
of  Calvary,  and  the  peace  his  heralds  proclaim  between 
God  and  man  ?  Men  do  perish,  yet  none  need  perish. 
There  is  no  lack  of  knowledge.  The  road  to  heaven  is 
plain.  "  The  wayfaring  man,  though  a  fool,  shall  not 
err  therein."  It  is  better  lighted  than  any  street  of 
this  city,  or  the  rugged  coasts  along  which  our  seamen 
steer,  or  the  harbours  which,  over  surf-beaten  bars,  they 
boldly  take  in  winter's  blackest  night. 

Notwithstanding  the  fuhiess  of  our  light,  what  mul- 
titudes are  wrecked  and  perish !  They  never  reach  the 
harbour, — nor,  arriving  in  heaven,  get  home !  And  I 
am  bound  to  tell  you  that,  unless  He,  who  gave  sight 
to  the  blind,  apply  his  finger,  and  touch  your  eyes  with 
"  eye-salve,"  their  fate  shall  be  yours.  What  though 
light  streams  on  our  eye-balls?  We  are  in  darkness 
till  we  are  converted ;  because  we  are  blind, — and  that 
not  by  accident,  but  by  nature, — born  blind.  There 
are  animals,  both  wild  and  domestic,  which,  by  a  strange 
and  mysterious  law  of  providence,  are  boi*n  in  that 


30  THE  POWER  OF  DARKNESS. 

state.  "  Having  eyes,  they  see  not."  Apparently 
unripe  for  the  birth,  they  leave  their  mother's  womb  to 
pass  the  first  period  of  their  being  utterly  sightless. 
But,  when  some  ten  days  have  come  and  gone,  time 
unseals  their  eyelids,  and  they  are  delivered  from  the 
power  of  darkness.  But  not  ten  days,  nor  years,  nor 
any  length  of  time,  will  do  us  such  friendly  office.  Not 
that  we  shall  be  always  blind.  Oh,  how  men  shall  see, 
and  regret  in  another  world,  the  folly  they  were  guilty 
of  in  this !  Eternity  opens  the  darkest  eyes,  but  opens 
them,  alas,  too  late ;  "He  lift  up  his  eyes,  being  in 
torment."  He  is  a  madman  who  braves  that  fate  ;  yet 
it  awaits  you,  unless  you  bestir  yourselves,  and,  shaking 
sloth  away,  seize  the  golden  opportunity  to  pursue  the 
Saviour  with  the  blind  man's  cry,  "  Thou  Son  of  David, 
have  mercy  on  me!" 

I  can  fancy  few  sadder  sights  than  an  entire  family, 
parents  and  children,  all  blind — a  home,  where  the 
flowers  have  no  beauty,  the  night  has  no  stars,  the 
morning  no  blushing  dawn,  and  the  azure  sky  no 
glorious  sun — a  home,  where  they  have  never  looked 
on  each  other's  faces ;  but  a  blind  father  sits  by  the 
dull  fire  with  a  blind  boy  on  his  knee,  and  the  sightless 
mother  nurses  at  her  bosom  a  sightless  babe,  that 
never  gladdened  her  with  its  happy  smile.  How  would 
such  a  spectacle  touch  the  most  callous  feelings,  and 
move  to  pity  even  a  heart  of  stone !  But  a  greater 
calamity  is  ours.  The  eyes  of  our  understanding  are 
darkened.  Sin  quenched  man's  sight  in  Eden  ;  and, 
strange  result !  the  event  that  revealed  their  nakedness 


THE  POWER  OF  DARKNESS.  31 

to  our  first  parents,  shut,  closed,  sealed  their  eyes,  and 
those  also  of  their  children,  to  the  greater  shame  of 
spiritual  nakedness.  Thus  blind  to  their  blindness,  and 
insensible  of  their  need  of  Jesus,  alas !  how  many  allow 
him  to  pass  by !  The  precious  opportunity  of  salvation 
is  lost — lost  perhaps  for  ever.  Oh,  for  one  hour  of  the 
sense  and  energy  of  the  beggars  that  sat  by  the  gate 
of  Jericho !  Stumbling,  often  falling,  but  always  to 
rise,  they  hung  on  the  skirts  of  the  crowd,  plunged 
headlong  into  the  thick  of  it,  and,  elbowing  men  aside, 
pursued  Jesus  with  the  most  plaintive,  pitiful,  and 
earnest  prayer,  "  Have  mercy  on  us,  0  Lord,  thou  Son 
of  David !  Have  mercy  on  us,  0  Lord,  thou  Son  of 
David!"  Be  yours  that  cry.  Follow  your  Saviour 
on  their  feet ;  hang  on  him  with  the  vehemence  of  one 
who  said,  "  My  soul  followeth  hard  after  thee."  Be 
turned  by  nothing  from  your  purpose  ;  but  keep  follow- 
ing, and,  as  you  follow,  crying ;  and  I  promise  you 
that  that  cry  will  stop  him  as  sure  as  Joshua's 
pierced  the  heavens,  and  stopped  the  glowing  axles  of 
the  sun. 

That  we  may  have  a  deep,  and  by  God's  blessing  a 
saving,  impression  of  our  need  of  salvation,  let  us  look 
at  some  aspects  of  our  state  by  nature  in  the  light,  if  I 
may  say  so,  of  its  darkness. 

1.  Darkness  is  a  state  of  indolence. 

Night  is  the  proper  period  for  rest.  When — em- 
blem of  a  Christian  at  his  evening  prayers — the  lark 
sings  in  the  close  of  day,  and  leaves  the  skies  to  drop 


32  THE  POWER  OF  DARKNESS. 

into  her  dewy  nest ;  when  from  distant  uplands,  the 
rooks,  a  noisy  crowd,  come  sailing,  wheeling  home ; 
when  the  flowers  shut  their  beautiful  eyes ;  when  the 
sun,  retiring  within  the  cloudy  curtains  of  the  evening, 
sinks  into  his  ocean-bed — nature,  however  some  may 
neglect  her  lessons,  teaches  man  to  seek  repose.  So, 
with  some  exceptions,  all  honest  men  and  women 
go  to  sleep  in  the  dark.  "  They  that  sleep,  sleep 
in  the  night;"  and  this  busy  world  lies  hushed  in 
the  arms  of  slumber,  till  morning,  looking  in  at  the 
window,  calls  up  toil  to  resume  her  labours.  And  thus, 
when  we  have  been  summoned  at  midnight  to  a  bed  of 
death,  how  loud  the  foot-fall  sounded  in  the  empty 
thoroughfare !  With  thousands  around  who  gave  no 
sign  of  life,  with  none  abroad  but  prowling  dog  or 
houseless  outcast  or  some  guilty  wretch,  with  the  tall 
grim  tenements  wrapped  in  gloom,  save  where  student's 
lamp,  or  the  faint  light  of  a  sick  chamber  glimmered 
dim  and  drear,  we  have  felt  such  awe  as  he  might  do 
who  walks  through  a  city  of  the  dead.  Yet,  in  its 
hours  of  deepest  darkness  and  quietest  repose,  this  city 
presents  no  true  pictm-e  of  our  state  by  nature.  We  see 
it  yonder  where  a  city  sleeps,  while  eager  angels  point 
Lot's  eyes  to  the  break  of  day,  and  urge  his  tardy 
steps  through  the  doomed  streets  of  Sodom.  A  fiery 
firmament  hangs  over  all  the  unconverted ;  and  there 
is  need  that  God  send  his  grace  to  do  them  an  angel's 
office,  saving  them  from  impending  judgments.  Are 
you  still  exposed  to  the  wrath  of  God  ?  House  thee, 
then,  from  sleep,  shake  off  thy  indolence,  and  leap  from 


THE  POWER  OF  DABKNESS.  33 

thy  bed — it  is  all  one  whether  thou  burn  on  a  couch  of 
down  or  straw.  "  Escape  to  the  mountain,  lest  thou 
be  consumed,"  betake  you  to  the  Saviour,  lest — since 
the  blood  of  Christ  cleanseth  from  all  sin,  and  he 
died  for  the  chief  of  sinners,  and  salvation  is  without 
money  and  without  price,  and  God  is  not  willing  that 
any  should  perish — thou  perish,  more  in  a  sense  the 
victim  of  thy  sloth  than  of  thy  guiltiest  sins. 

Ancient  Egypt,  however,  supplies  perhaps  the  best 
illustration  of  the  connection  which  subsists  between  a 
state  of  darkness  and  a  state  of  indolence.  God  said 
to  Moses,  "  Stretch  out  thine  hand  toward  heaven,  that 
there  may  be  darkness  over  the  land  of  Egypt,  even 
darkness  which  may  be  felt.  And  Moses  stretched 
forth  his  hand  toward  heaven  ;  and  there  was  a  thick 
darkness  in  all  the  land  of  Egypt  three  days."  And 
how  passed  these  days  of  darkness  ?  They  neither 
bought  nor  sold ;  they  neither  married  nor  buried  ; 
they  neither  rocked  a  cradle  nor  embalmed  a  corpse. 
No  hammer  rang ;  no  merry  wheel  went  round  ;  no 
fire  burned  at  the  brick  kiln  ;  no  woman  sang  "  behind 
the  mill;"  no  busy  tread  sounded  on  the  pavement, 
nor  cheerful  dash  of  oar  upon  the  water.  An  awful 
silence  reigned  throughout  the  land.  As  if  every  house 
had  been  in  a  moment  changed  into  a  tomb,  and  each 
living  man  into  a  mummied  corpse,  they  sat  motion- 
less— the  king  on  his  weary  throne,  the  peasant  in  the 
field,  the  weaver  at  his  loom,  the  prisoner  in  his  dun- 
geon. As  in  the  story  of  some  old  romance,  where  a 
bold  knight,  gouag  in  quest  of  adventures,  sounds  his 


34  THE  POWEll  OF  DARKNESS. 


horn  at  the  castle  gate,  and,  getting  no  response,  enters 
to  find  king,  courtiers,  servants,  horses,  all  turned  into 
stone — they  sat,  spell-bound,  where  the  darkness  seized 
them.  "  They  saw  not  one  another,  neither  rose  any 
from  his  place  for  three  days." 

Still  greater  wonder !  many  a  man  in  this  world 
has  not  risen  from  his  place,  I  say  not  for  three  days, 
nor  for  three  years,  but  ten  times  three  years  and  more. 
He  is  no  nearer  heaven  than  he  was  a  long  time  ago. 
Borne  on,  indeed,  by  the  ever-flowing  stream  of  time,  and 
ever-downward  course  of  sin,  alas  !  he  is  nearer  the  brink 
of  hell.  Perilous  indolence !  God  says,  "  labour  not  for 
the  meat  which  perisheth,  but  for  that  meat  which  en- 
dure th  unto  everlasting  life,"  "  give  diligence  to  make 
your  calling  and  election  sure,"  "  seek  ye  the  Lord  while 
he  may  be  found,"  and  therefore,  I  say,  be  up,  and  doing ; 
time  is  short ;  the  stake  is  great ;  death  is  at  the  door, 
and,  if  he  find  you  out  of  Christ,  damnation  is  at  his 
heels.  "  And  I  looked,  and  behold  a  pale  horse,  and 
his  name  that  sat  on  him  was  Death,  and  Hell  followed 
with  him."  Of  your  many  calls,  and  opportunities,  is 
this  all  the  result  ?  Half  awakened,  yet  unwilling  to 
tear  yourself  from  the  arms  of  pleasure,  do  you  avert 
your  eyes  from  the  light  ?  angry  perhaps,  at  being  dis- 
turbed, perhaps  half  sorrowful,  do  you  bid  us  come  back 
at  "a  more  convenient  season?"  drowsily  turning  on 
your  deceitful  couch,  do  you  say,  "  Yet  a  little  sleep,  a 
little  slumber,  a  little  folding  of  the  hands  to  sleep?" 
Then,  in  God's  name,  I  ask  what  shall  be  the  end  of 
these  things  ?     The  end  of  these  things  is  death. 


THE  POWER  OF  DARKNESS.  35 

2.  Darkness  is  a  state  of  ignorance. 

Conducted  under  the  veil  of  night  to  the  nuptial 
couch,  Jacob  finds  in  the  possession  of  Rachel,  as  he 
supposes,  an  ample  reward  for  the  seven  long  years  of 
weary  work  and  waiting.  She,  whom  his  heart  wooed 
and  his  hands  won,  is  now  his  wedded  wife.  He  wakes 
a  happy  man.  Neither  suspecting  how  God  had 
punished  him  for  the  deceit  he  practised  on  his  old 
blind  father,  nor  how  Laban,  a  greater  master  of  craft 
than  himself,  had  substituted  the  elder  for  the  younger 
daughter,  fancy  his  confusion,  when  he  turns,  by  the 
rosy  light  of  morn,  to  gaze  on  his  beautiful  bride, 
to  find  the  blear-eyed  Leah  at  his  side.  Yet  a 
day  approaches  when,  from  dreams  of  wealth  and 
pleasure,  many  shall  awake,  in  rage  and  unavailing 
sorrow,  to  the  discovery  of  a  greater  mistake.  AVhat 
Jacob's  mistake  to  his,  who,  embracing  pleasure, 
wakens  to  find  himself  in  the  arms  of  a  hideous  demon, 
dragging  him  down — struggling,  shrieking,  into  the 
lowest  hell  ? 

But  if  we  would  see  spiritual  darkness  represented 
on  a  scale  in  any  degree  commensurate  with  the  multi- 
tude of  its  victims,  and  with  its  destructive  power,  let 
us  turn  to  the  host  of  Midian.  The  memorable  night 
has  come  when,  animated  by  a  divine  courage,  Gideon 
leads  his  three  hundred  to  the  bold  assault.  Silently 
he  plants  them  around  the  enemy's  lines,  waiting  till 
song  and  revel  have  died  away,  and  that  mighty 
host  lies  buried  in  stillest  slumbers.  Then,  one  trumpet 
blows  loud  and  clear,  starthng  the  wary  sentinel  on 


36  THE  POWER  OF  DARKNESS. 

his  round.  He  stops,  he  hstens ;  and,  ere  its  last  echoes 
have  ceased,  the  whole  air  is  torn  with  battle-notes. 
Out  of  the  darkness,  trumpet  replies  to  trumpet,  and  the 
blast  of  three  hundred,  blown  loud  and  long,  wakens 
the  deepest  sleeper — filling  the  ear  of  night  with  a 
dreadful  din,  and  the  hearts  of  the  bravest  with  strange 
and  sudden  fear.  Ere  they  can  ask  what  mean,  whence 
come  these  sounds,  a  sight  as  strange  blazes  up  through 
the  murky  night.  Three  hundred  torch-fires  pierce  the 
gloom,  and  advance  in  flaming  circle  on  the  panic- 
stricken  camp.  Suddenly  extinguished,  once  more  all 
is  dark.  Then — as  if  the  dust  of  the  whirlwind,  or 
the  sands  of  the  desert,  or  the  leaves  of  the  forest,  had 
turned  into  armed  men,  ready  to  burst  on  that  uncir- 
cumcised  host — in  front,  on  their  rear,  on  either  flank, 
rings  the  Hebrews'  battle-cry,  ''  The  sword  of  the  Lord 
and  of  Gideon  !"  For  dear  life  the  Midianites  draw. 
Mistaking  friend  for  foe,  they  bury  their  swords  in  each 
other's  bosoms.  Wild  with  terror,  stricken  mad  with 
pain,  each  man  seizes  his  fellow  by  the  beard,  giving 
and  receiving  mortal  wounds.  And  so,  not  by  the 
arms  of  Gideon,  so  much  as  by  the  hand  of  the  darkness, 
was  skill  outwitted,  and  bravery  defeated,  and  that 
mighty  army  routed  and  slain.  Such  is  the  power  of 
darkness !  Yet  what  is  that  dying  host  to  one  lost 
soul ! 

Ugliness  and  beauty,  friend  and  foe,  are  all  one  in 
the  dark.  And  so  are  all  roads  when  the  belated  tra- 
veller cannot  see  his  finger  before  him,  and  the  watery 
pool  throws  ofif  no  gleam,  and  earth  and  sky  appear  a 


THE  POWER  OF  DARKNESS.  37 

solid  mass  of  darkness.  Unconscious  of  danger,  and 
dreaming  of  a  home  he  shall  never  more  see,  he  draws 
near  the  precipice  ;  his  foot  is  on  its  grassy  edge  ;  another 
step,  one  loud  shriek,  and  there  he  lies — a  bleeding 
mass,  beneath  the  crag.  Nor,  when  night  comes 
down  upon  the  deep  in  fog,  or  rain,  or  blinding  drift, 
can  the  ill-starred  mariner  distinguish  the  rock  from  the 
sea,  or  a  wrecker's  fire  from  the  harbour  lights.  Thus — 
showing  us  how  many  sinners  perish — the  darkness  is 
the  cause  of  their  death.  They  are  lost — victims  to  the 
"  power  of  darkness." 

The  greatest  of  all  mistakes  is  to  miss  the  path  to 
heaven.  Yet  see  how  many,  turning  from  Christ,  who 
says,  "  I  am  the  way,  and  the  truth,  and  the  life,"  in 
the  darkness  of  their  understandings,  and  the  depravity 
of  their  hearts,  have  missed,  and  are  missing  it  ?  Some 
think  that  their  charities,  and  public  usefulness,  and 
household  duties,  will  save  them.  Some  think,  by  going 
the  round  and  lifeless  routine  of  prayers,  and  preachings, 
and  sacraments,  and  outward  services,  that  they  will  cer- 
tainly secure  the  favom*  of  God.  Some  think  they  may 
go  on  in  sin,  and  for  a  while  longer  dare  the  danger, 
and  then  put  up  the  helm — veering  round  when  they  like 
on  the  other  tack ;  while  many  fancy  that  they  are  on 
the  road  to  heaven,  when  every  step  they  take,  and 
every  day  they  live,  is  carrying  them  farther  and  farther 
away.  Others  regard  religion  as  a  thing  of  gloom ; 
they  reckon  the  friends  of  their  souls  to  be  the  enemies 
of  their  happiness.  Infatuated  men  !  they  fly  from  the 
voice  of  the  Shepherd  to  throw  themselves  into  the 


38  THE  POWER  OF  DARKNESS. 


jaws  of  the  wolf.  Nay,  there  are  some  plunged  in 
yet  deeper  moral  darkness,  who  remind  me  of  a  convict 
whom  I  saw  in  the  Hulks — that  frightful  concentration 
of  villany  and  crime.  He  had  seated  himself  ostenta- 
tiously on  a  bench.  With  no  blush  burning  on  his 
beardless  cheek,  but  with  an  expression  rather  of  satis- 
faction in  his  face,  the  boy  was  polishing  the  fetter  on 
his  ankle.  Poor  wretch,  he  was  vain  of  its  silvery 
sheen,  and  raised  sad  thoughts  in  us  of  pity  and  wonder 
at  the  darkness  of  his  neglected  soul.  And  yet  more 
dark  and  dreadful  is  the  state  of  many  who  would  once 
have  said  of  the  life  they  now  lead,  "  Is  thy  servant  a 
dog  that  he  should  do  this  great  thing?"  Gone  in 
iniquity,  they  boast,  with  unblushing  face,  of  the  victims 
whom  they  have  seduced ;  of  the  abominable  debauch- 
eries which  they  practise ;  of  virtue  ensnared  by  their 
villanous  arts ;  of  simple,  unsuspecting  honesty  they 
have  overreached ;  of  their  scorn  for  religion,  of  their 
contempt  of  its  professors,  and  their  loose,  licentious 
freedom  from  its  holiest  bonds.  They  blazon  their  sins 
upon  their  foreheads,  and,  parading  them  before  the 
world,  glory  in  their  shame. 

No  man  wishes,  no  man  intends,  to  go  to  Hell. 
And  who,  that  was  not  plunged  in  the  ignorance  of 
deepest  darkness,  would  choose  death  rather  than  life, 
would  embrace  sin  rather  than  the  Saviour,  would  wave 
away  the  cup  of  salvation  to  seize  a  poisoned  chalice, 
and  drink  down  damning  draughts  of  forbidden  pleasure  ? 
May  God  enlighten  your  eyes  lest  you  sleep  the  sleep  of 
death !    Be  not  deceived.     The  tale  of  the  goblet,  which 


THE  POWER  OF  DARKNESS.  39 

the  genius  of  a  heathen  fashioned,  was  true  ;  and  taught 
a  moral  of  which  many  a  death-bed  furnishes  the  melan- 
choly illustration.  Having  made  the  model  of  a  serpent, 
he  fixed  it  in  the  bottom  of  the  cup.  Coiled  for  the 
spring,  a  pair  of  gleaming  eyes  in  its  head,  and  in  its 
open  mouth  fangs  raised  to  strike,  it  lay  beneath  the 
ruby  wine.  Nor  did  he  who  raised  that  golden  cup 
to  quench  his  thirst,  and  quaff  the  delicious  draught, 
suspect  what  lay  below,  till,  as  he  reached  the  dregs, 
that  dreadful  head  rose  up  and  glistened  before  his  eyes. 
So,  when  life's  cup  is  nearly  emptied,  and  sin's  last 
pleasure  quaffed,  and  unwilling  lips  are  draining  the 
bitter  dregs,  shall  rise  the  ghastly  terrors  of  remorse, 
and  death,  and  judgment,  upon  the  despairing  soul. 
Be  assured,  a  serpent  lurks  at  the  bottom  of  guilt's 
sweetest  pleasure.  To  this  awful  truth  may  God,  by 
his  word  and  Holy  Spirit,  open  your  eyes !  Seeing 
the  serpent,  seized  with  holy  horror  at  the  sight, 
may  you  fling  the  temptation  from  you  ;  and  turn  to 
Him,  who,  with  love  in  his  heart,  and  kindness  in  his 
looks,  and  forgiveness  on  his  lips,  and  the  cup  of  salva- 
tion held  out  in  his  hand,  cries,  "  If  any  man  thirst, 
let  him  come  unto  me  and  drink."  Here,  believe  me, 
is  peace  that  passeth  understanding  ;  here  are  joys 
that  will  bear  the  morning's  reflection,  pleasures  that 
are  for  evermore. 


THE  POWER  OF  DARKNESS. 

(Contimied.) 
Who  hath  delivered  us  from  the  power  of  darkness. — Colossians  i.  13. 

Q  AILING  once  along  a  coast  where  a  friend  liad 
suffered  shipwreck,  the  scene  which  recalled  his 
danger  filled  us  with  no  fear.  Because,  while  his  ship, 
on  the  night  she  ran  ashore,  was  cutting  her  way  through 
the  densest  fog,  we  were  ploughing  the  waters  of  a 
silver  sea,  where  noble  headlands,  and  pillared  cliffs, 
and  scattered  islands,  and  surf-beaten  reefs,  stood  bathed 
in  the  brightest  moonshine.  There  was  no  danger, 
just  because  there  was  no  darkness. 

The  thick  and  heavy  haze  is,  of  all  hazards,  that 
which  the  wary  seaman  holds  in  greatest  dread.  It 
exposes  him  to  accidents  which  neither  care  nor  skill 
can  avert.  In  a  moment  his  bark  may  go  crashing  on 
the  treacherous  rock,  or,  run  down  by  another  ship, 
fill  and  founder  in  the  deep.  Rather  than  a  glassy  sea, 
wrapped  in  gloom,  give  him  the  roaring  storm  and  its 
mountain  billows,  with  an  open  sky  above  his  head,  and 
wide  sea-room  around.  And,  in  a  sense,  is  it  not  so 
with  a  Christian  man  ?  Give  him  the  light  of  heaven — 
let  him  enjoy  both  a  clear  sense  of  his  interest  in  Christ, 
and  a  clear  sight  of  his  duty  to  Christ,  and,  in  the  midst 


THE  PmVER  OF  DARKNESS.  41 

of  trials  and  temptations,  how  nobly  he  rides  over  them ! 
He  rises  on  the  waves  which  seemed  about  to  over- 
whelm him,  and  holds  on  his  course  to  heaven — safer  in 
the  storm  than  others  are  in  the  calm.  Enjoying  the 
sunshine  of  God's  countenance  within  his  soul,  and  the 
light  of  God's  word  on  his  path  of  duty,  the  man  is 
cheerful  where  others  are  cast  down  ;  he  sings  when 
others  weep  ;  when  others  tremble,  he  is  calm,  perhaps 
even  jubilant;  and,  the  Lord  his  Saviour,  because  his 
sun,  he  adopts  the  brave  words  of  David,  saying,  "  The 
Lord  is  my  light  and  my  salvation  ;  whom  shall  I  fear  ? 
The  Lord  is  the  strength  of  my  life ;  of  whom  shall  I 
be  afraid  ?" 

In  resuming  the  subject  of  the  previous  discourse, 
this  leads  me  to  remark — 

3.  That  darkness  is  a  state  of  danger.  As  locks 
and  bars  prove,  neither  life  nor  property  is  safe  by  night 
as  they  are  by  day.  Honesty,  having  nothing  to  blush 
for  or  to  conceal,  pursues  her  business  in  open  day ;  but 
crime  seeks  the  cover  of  the  night.  And  what  is  that 
thief,  prowling  abroad  like  a  fox,  and  with  stealthy  foot 
creeping  along  under  shadow  of  the  wall ;  what  that 
assassin,  searching  the  gloom,  and  listening  for  the  step 
of  his  victim's  approach ;  what  she,  who,  issuing  from 
a  den  of  sin,  and  throwing  the  veil  of  night  over 
painted  cheek  and  faded  finery,  lurks  in  the  streets  for 
her  prey — what  are  these,  but  types  of  him  who  is  the 
enemy  of  man,  and  takes  advantage  of  spiritual  darkness 
to  ensnare  or  assault  God's  children,  and  to  ruin  poor 
thoughtless  sinners. 

c  2 


42  THE  POWER  OF  DARKNESS, 

Such  danger  is  there  in  darkness,  that  people  have 
perished  within  reach  of  home,  almost  at  their  own 
door.  So  it  befell  one  who  was  found  in  a  winter 
morning  stretched  cold  and  dead  on  a  bed  of  snow — 
her  glazed  eyes  and  rigid  form  contrasting  strangely 
with  her  gay  attire.  She  began  the  night  with  dances, 
and  ended  it  with  death.  She  leaves  the  merry  revels 
of  a  marriage-scene  for  her  home  across  the  mountain. 
The  stars  go  out,  and  the  storm  comes  on.  Bewildered 
by  the  howling  tempest,  and  the  blinding  drift,  and 
the  black  night,  she  loses  her  way.  Long  the  struggle 
lasts.  At  length,  worn  out  and  benumbed,  she  stretches 
her  fragile  form  on  that  fatal  bed,  and,  amid  dreams, 
perhaps,  of  dances,  and  song,  and  merriment,  she  sinks 
into  the  sleep  that  knows  no  waking.  Nor  was  it 
when  snows  were  melted,  and  months  or  years  had 
gone,  that  her  withering  form  was  found  by  a  wandering 
shepherd  on  some  drear  upland,  in  a  lone  mountain 
corrie,  half  buried  in  a  dark  and  deep  morass.  No. 
She  met  her  fate  near  by  a  friendly  door,  and  perished 
in  the  darkness  within  a  step  of  safety.  Yet  not 
nearer,  nor  so  near  it,  as  many  are  to  salvation,  who  yet 
are  lost.  They  die  by  the  very  door  of  heaven.  The 
Apostle  tells  us  how,  "  The  god  of  this  world  hath 
blinded  the  minds  of  them  which  beheve  not,  lest  the 
light  of  the  glorious  gospel  of  Christ,  who  is  the  image 
of  God,  should  shine  unto  them."  The  darkness  is 
their  death. 

And  while  no  night  ever  came  down  so  black  and 
starless  as  that  which  has  settled  on  the  human  soul. 


THE  POWER  OF  DARKNESS.  43 

in  respect  of  its  power  over  men,  what  can  be  compared 
to  mental,  moral,  spiritual  darkness  ?  Its  chains  are 
more  difficult  to  rend  than  chains  of  brass  or  iron. 
Look  at  Popery!  She  immures  her  votaries  in  a 
gloomier  dungeon  than  ever  held  her  victims.  And 
throwing  her  fetters,  not  over  the  limbs,  but  over  the 
free  mind  of  man,  what  an  illustration  does  she  give 
of  ''  the  power  of  darkness?"  How  formidable  is  that 
power  which  compels  a  man  to  sacrifice  his  reason  at 
the  feet  of  priestcraft ;  and  woman,  shrinking,  modest, 
delicate  woman,  to  allow  some  foul  hand  to  se^ch 
her  bosom,  and  to  drag  its  secrets  from  their  close 
concealment.  Best  gift  of  heaven !  God  sends  them 
his  blessed  word,  and  they  dare  not  open  it.  Those 
senses  of  smell,  and  touch,  and  taste,  which  are  the 
voice  of  God,  declare  that  the  cup  is  filled  with  wine, 
and  the  wafer  made  of  wheat;  but,  as  if  their  senses 
as  well  as  their  souls  were  darkened,  they  believe  that 
to  be  a  living  man's  blood,  and  this  to  be  a  living  man's 
flesh  !  "  Having  eyes,  they  see  not."  And,  greatest 
triumph  of  darkness !  they  hug  their  chains ;  refuse 
instruction ;  stop  their  ears,  like  the  deaf  adder  which 
will  not  hear  the  voice  of  the  charmer,  charm  he  ever 
so  wisely;  and  turn  away  their  eyes  from  the  truth, 
as  the  owls  that  haunt  some  old  monastic  ruin  from  the 
glare  of  a  torch,  or  the  blaze  of  day.  How  appropriate 
to  the  devotees  of  a  faith  so  detestable,  the  words  of 
Scripture — "  If  the  light  that  is  in  you  be  darkness,  how 
great  is  that  darkness!" 

Censure,  as  well  as  charity,  however,  should  begin 


44  THE  POWER  OF  DARKNESS. 

at  home ;  and  therefore,  to  be  faithful  to  ourselves  as 
well  as  just  to  others,  we  ought  not  to  forget  that 
melancholy  illustrations  of  the  power  of  darkness  are 
found  nearer  at  hand  than  Rome.  In  the  face  of  all 
past  and  much  bitter  experience,  how  many  among 
ourselves  live  under  the  delusion  that,  though  the  happi- 
ness they  seek  and  expect  to  find  in  the  world  has,  in 
all  bygone  time,  eluded  their  grasp,  in  the  object  they 
now  pursue,  they  shall  certainly  embrace  the  mocking 
phantom !  How  many  among  ourselves,  also,  are 
putting  away  the  claims  of  Christ  and  of  their  souls 
to  what  they  flatter  themselves  shall  be  a  more,  but 
what  must  be  a  less,  convenient  season  !  Contrary  to 
the  testimony  of  all  who  have  ever  tried  it,  do  not 
many  of  us  persist  in  believing  God's  service  to  be  a 
weariness,  and  piety  a  life  of  cheerless  gloom  ?  Many 
regard  the  slavery  of  sin  as  liberty,  and  shun  the  liberty 
of  Christ  as  intolerable  bondage.  Many  fancy  them- 
selves to  be  safe,  who,  hanging  over  perdition  by  life's 
most  slender  thread,  are  ''  ready  to  perish."  Talk  of 
the  delusions  of  Popery  and  the  credulity  of  Papists ! 
Many  among  us  believe  the  barest  and  most  naked  lies 
of  the  devil,  rather  than  the  plain  word  of  God.  Alas ! 
the  feet  of  thousands  here  are  on  the  dark  mountains;  and, 
unless  God  shall  enlighten  them  by  his  Spirit,  the  dark- 
ness, which  is  now  their  danger,  shall  prove  their  death. 
Were  you,  under  the  tyranny  of  mortal  man,  im- 
mured in  his  strongest  dungeon,  I  would  not  despair 
of  your  escape.  Within  an  old  castle  that  sits  pictu- 
resquely perched  upon  a  noble  sea  rock,  and  to  whose 


THE  POWER  OF  DARKNESS.  45 

crumbling  walls  the  memory  of  other  days  clings,  fresh 
and  green  as  the  ivy  that  mantles  them,  there  is  a  sight 
to  strike  men  with  horror.  Passing  under  a  low- 
browed portal,  where  you  bid  farewell  to  the  light  and 
air  of  heaven,  a  flight  of  broken  steps  conducts  you 
down  into  a  chill,  gloomy  vault.  In  the  centre  of  its 
rocky  floor  yawn  the  jaws  of  a  horrid  pit.  The  candle, 
lighted  and  swung  into  that  dread  abyss,  goes  down, 
and  yet  deeper  down,  till,  in  an  excavated  dungeon  in 
the  rock,  it  dimly  reveals  the  horrors  of  a  living  grave. 
There  the  cry  for  help  could  reach  no  ear  but  God's ; 
and  no  sound  responded  to  the  captive's  moan  but  the 
dull  steady  stroke  of  the  billows,  as  they  burst  on  the 
face  of  the  crag.  Into  that  sepulchre — where  they 
buried  God's  persecuted  saints — you  look  to  shudder, 
and  to  say,  *'  for  them  hope  was  none."  Yet  immure 
a  man  in  that — in  the  darkest,  strongest  dungeon  despot 
has  ever  built,  and  give  him  hope  for  a  companion, 
liberty  for  his  bosom-wish,  a  brave  heart,  a  stout  hand, 
and,  some  morning,  his  goaler  enters  to  find  the  cage 
empty,  and  the  bird  flown.  But,  for  you  that  are 
under  the  power  of  darkness — for  you,  who  are  at  once 
the  servants  and  slaves  and  captives  of  the  Prince  of 
Darkness — for  you,  whom  he  first  blinds,  and  then 
binds,  there  is  no  help  in  man. 

There  is  help  in  God.  Sin  never  wove,  in  hottest 
hell-fires  the  devil  never  forged,  a  chain,  which  the 
Spirit  of  God,  wielding  the  hammer  of  the  word, 
cannot  strike  from  fettered  limbs.  Put  that  to  the  test. 
Try  the  power  of   prayer.     Let   continued,  constant, 


46  THE  POWER  OF  DARKNESS. 

earnest,  wrestling  prayer  be  made  for  those  that  are 
chained  to  their  sins,  and,  so  to  speak,  thrust  "  into 
the  inner  prison,"  and  see  whether,  as  on  that  night 
when  Peter  was  led  forth  by  the  angel's  hand,  your 
prayers  are  not  turned  into  most  grateful  praises.  From 
the  belly  of  the  whale,  from  the  depths  of  ocean,  from 
the  darkness  of  a  perpetual  night,  God  brought  up 
Jonah  to  sunny  shores  and  lightsome  liberty.  And  let 
that  same  God  hear  from  vilest  lips  the  cry  of  danger — 
Lord  save  me,  I  perish — the  cry  of  earnest  desire,  of 
lowly  penitence,  of  an  awakened  conscience,  of  humble 
faith,  and  he  shall  save  them  by  a  great  deliverance. 
He  will  bow  his  heavens,  and  come  down.  True  to 
his  word,  he,  who  never  said  to  any  of  the  sons  of  men, 
"  Seek  ye  me  in  vain,"  will  deliver  from  the  power  of 
darkness,  and  translate  into  the  *'  kingdom  of  his  dear 
Son." 

Having  from  these  words  considered  our  state  of 
nature  under  the  emblem  of  darkness,  I  would  now 
remark — 

II.  That  even    God's  people  remain  in  more  or  less 
darkness,  so  long  as  they  are  here. 

1.  They  may  be  in  darkness  through  ignorance. 
Their  eyes  have  been  divinely  opened,  and  they  can  say 
with  the  man  of  old,  "  This  I  know,  that  I  once  was 
blind,  but  now  I  see."  Having  received  "  the  truth  as 
it  is  in  Jesus,"  and  abandoned  the  works  of  darkness, 
they  are  therefore  called  "  the  children  of  light,  and 


THE  POWER  OF  DARKNESS.  47 


the  children  of  the  day."  Yet  all  of  them  do  not  enjoy 
the  same  measure  of  light,  nor  are  they  all  possessed  of 
equal  powers  of  sight.  Skies  differ,  and  eyes  differ  ; 
and  hence  those  conflicting  views  which  have  separated 
brother  from  brother,  and  rent  Christ's  church  into  so 
many  most  unfortunate  and  lamentable  divisions. 

It  is  easy  to  understand  how  this  happens.  Let 
objects  be  looked  at  through  an  imperfect  light,  and 
how  different  the  appearance  from  the  reality !  What 
mistakes  we  fall  into  !  In  the  grey  morning,  I  have 
seen  the  fog-bank  that  filled  the  valley  wear  the  aspect 
of  a  lake,  where  every  wood-crowned  knoll  lay  as  a 
beautiful  island,  asleep  on  its  placid  bosom.  How  often 
has  superstition  fled,  pale,  shrieking  from  the  churchyard, 
to  report  to  gaping  rustics  that  the  dead  were  walking ; 
when  it  was  but  the  pale  moonlight  struggling  through 
the  waving  branches  of  the  old  elms,  that  had  transformed 
some  grave-stone  into  a  sheeted  spectre !  And,  seen 
through  a  mist,  the  very  sun  itself  is  shorn  of  its 
glorious  splendour,  turned  into  a  dull,  red,  copper 
ball;  while  mean  objects,  regarded  through  the  same 
false  medium,  acquire  a  false  dignity — bushes  are  magni- 
fied into  trees,  and  the  humble  cottage  rises  into  a  stately 
mansion.  And  do  not  God's  people  fall  into  as  great 
mistakes,  when  they  look  at  divine  truth  through  their 
defective  vision,  and  through  the  mist  of  those  passions 
and  prejudices  that  are  common  to  our  poor  humanity  ? 
There  should  be  much  more  latitude  allowed  for  those 
differences  of  opinion  which  are  inseparable  from  our 
present  state ;  but,  forgetting  to  temper  the  ardent  zeal 


48  THE  POWER  OF  DARKNESS. 

with  the  loving  and  liberal  spirit  of  the  great  Apostle, 
Christian  men  have  allowed  differences  to  grow  up  into 
quarrels,  and  quarrels  to  ripen  into  divisions,  till  they, 
who  once  took  sweet  counsel  together,  and  walked  to 
the  house  of  God  in  company,  part,  saying,  "  Can  two 
walk  together,  except  they  be  agreed  ? "  A  time 
approaches,  blessed  be  God,  when  this  unseemly  state 
of  matters  shall  cease.  According  to  old  legends,  the 
ghosts  all  vanished  at  cock-crowing.  And,  as  the  day 
dispersed  the  spectres,  and  the  rolling  away  of  the 
mist  from  the  landscape  rolls  away  also  the  mistakes 
it  led  to,  even  so,  when  the  day  of  the  Lord  comes,  it 
will  settle  all  controversies — great  and  small.  In 
*'the  seven-fold"  light  of  Zion,  God's  children  shall 
see  "  eye  to  eye."  They  shall  not  only  behold  "  Him 
as  he  is,"  and  "  the  truth"  as  it  is,  but,  with  loving 
surprise,  their  brethren  as  they  are.  There  shall  be 
no  differences,  because  there  shall  be  no  darkness. 
"  Now  we  see  through  a  glass  darkly  ;  but  then  face  to 
face  ;  now  I  know  in  part ;  but  then  shall  I  know,  even 
as  also  I  am  known." 

Meanwhile,  He,  who  is  sovereign  in  his  dealings, 
and  gives  no  account  of  his  ways,  has  not  equally  dis- 
tributed the  light  of  saving  truth  ;  nor  is  there  anything 
in  the  kingdom  of  grace  corresponding  to  a  remarkable 
fact  in  nature.  Under  the  equator,  each  day  consists 
of  twelve  hours  of  light,  and  as  many  of  darkness,  the 
whole  year  round.  But  pass  by  one  long  stride  to 
the  polar  regions,  and,  according  as  the  season  is  sum- 
mer or  winter,  you    stand  beneath  a  sky  which  either 


THE  POWER  OF  DxVKKNESS.  49 

enjoys  perpetual  day,  or  is  wrapped  in  perpetual  night. 
There,  Dr.  Kane  and  his  ship's  crew,  for  instance,  never 
saw  the  sun  for  one  hundred  and  forty  long  and  weary 
days  ;  but  were  left,  as  in  those  Pagan  lands  on  which  the 
gospel  has  never  shone,  to  unbroken  night.  During  all 
that  long  period  the  sun  never  rose  above  the  horizon 
to  cheer  their  icy  prison  with  one  beam  of  light.  Yet, 
taking  the  whole  year  round,  the  inhabitants  of  these 
dreary  climes  have  the  same  period  of  light  as  we  and 
others ;  for  theirs  are  nightless  summers,  on  which 
the  stars  never  rise,  and  the  sun  never  sets,  but  wheels 
his  burning  chariot  round  and  round  the  pole.  Now, 
in  regard  to  saving  light  and  knowledge,  we  find 
nothing  corresponding  to  this  phenomenon.  Strange, 
mysterious  providence !  there  is  no  such  equal  diffusion 
of  gospel  truth.  We  dare  not  doubt  that  God's  ways 
are  equal,  and  that  eternity  will  shed  a  wondrous  and 
glorious  light  on  this  gloomy  mystery ;  but  over  a 
vast  surfa^ce  of  our  unhappy  world  we  see  only  dark- 
ness— "  gross  darkness" — unbroken  night — nations  that 
never  hailed  the  rising  of  a  better  sun. 

But,  leaving  the  Heathen  in  the  hands  of  God,  we 
find  some  Christian  nations  in  such  darkness,  as  to 
make  it  almost  a  marvel  to  us  how  they  find  their  way 
to  heaven.  I  cannot,  and  would  not  doubt,  that  the 
Church  of  Rome,  for  instance,  has  true  saints  within 
her — chosen  ones,  who  shall  be  plucked  as  brands  from 
the  fire,  cast  out,  like  praying  Jonah,  safe  upon  the 
land.  Still,  within  that  church,  the  people  enjoy  at 
best  ''  a  dim  religious  light."     The  gospel,  permitted 


50  THE  POWER  OF  DARKNESS. 

to  reacli  them  only  through  blind  or  selfish  prie.sts, 
suffers  like  change  with  the  sunbeam  that  streams 
through  the  coloured  windows  of  their  gorgeous  but 
gloomy  cathedrals ;  and,  with  a  cloud  of  saints  inter- 
posed between  him  and  the  eye  of  the  sinner,  the 
Saviour,  like  the  sun  behind  misty  vapours,  stands  shorn 
of  his  resplendent  glory. 

Again,  in  those  few  countries  where,  in  full  free- 
dom to  use  the  Bible,  and  in  the  general  use  of  it,  the 
gospel  may  be  said  to  shine  with  unclouded  splendour, 
God's  people  do  not  all  walk  in  the  same  degree  of  light. 
Be  it  owing  to  peculiar  circumstances,  or  to  some 
defect  of  vision,  they  are  not  all  equally  enlightened. 
Some  are  offensively  narrow-minded.  Some  are  so 
ghort-sighted,  that  they  can  hardly  recognise  Christ's 
own,  and  therefore  their  own,  brother,  unless  he  belong 
to  the  same  church,  and  remember  the  Saviour  at  the 
same  table  with  themselves.  They  are  great  upon  little 
things.  More  given  to  hate  the  error  than  love  the 
truth  which  they  see  in  others,  their  temper  is  sour  and 
ungenial.  I  do  not  assert  that  they  have  not  the  eagle- 
wings  which  rise  to  near  communion  with  God,  but 
tliey  want  that  long-sighted  eagle-eye  which  discerns 
distant  objects,  and  embraces  in  its  range  of  vision  a 
broad  and  wide  expanse.  Be  ours  the  charity  which 
beareth  all  things,  believeth  all  things,  hopeth  all  things, 
endure th  all  things ! 

Again,  while  some  saints  enjoy  a  clear  assurance 
of  their  salvation,  and,  stretching  toward  heaven,  be- 
hold the    land  that  is   very  far  off,   as  seamen  from 


THE  POWER  OF  DARKNESS.  51 

their  outlook  descry  the  mountain  tops,  when  their 
bark  is  ploughing  a  waste  of  waters,  and  yet  a  long 
way  from  land,  there  are  other  Christians  who  pass 
their  days  in  a  state  of  despondency.  The  sun  seldom 
breaks  out  to  cheer  them.  Their  faith  has  a  hard 
fight  with  their  fears.  It  is  little  they  know  of  rejoic- 
ing in  the  Lord,  and  joying  in  the  God  of  their  salva- 
tion. By  help  of  God's  word,  their  compass,  they 
succeed,  no  doubt,  in  steering  their  way  to  heaven,  but 
it  is  over  a  troubled  sea,  and  under  a  cloudy  sky ;  nor 
are  they  ever  happy  enough  to  be  altogether  delivered 
from  doubt  and  fear,  till  fears  as  well  as  faith  are  lost 
in  light,  and  they  find  themselves  safe  in  glory. 

Again,  while  some,  who  draw  all  the  doctrines  they 
believe  directly  and  freshly  from  the  fountain  of  God's 
word,  are  enlightened,  catholic  in  spirit,  and  sound 
in  the  faith,  it  is  otherwise  with  others.  Calling  this 
or  that  man  Kabbi,  they  yield  too  much  submission  to 
human  authority.  They  draw  the  water  of  life,  so  to 
speak,  not  at  the  spring  but  at  the  well ;  and  tasting  of 
the  pipe  it  flows  through,  their  creed,  and  faith,  and 
doctrines  are  adulterated  by  a  mixture  of  earthly,  though 
not  fatal,  errors. 

If  we  allow  to  these  views  their  due  influence,  how 
ought  they  to  expand  our  hearts,  and  teach  us  a  tender 
regard  toward  those  from  whom  we  difier  !  Blindness 
of  mind,  surely,  if  not  wilful,  claims  our  gentle  pity, 
more  even  than  blindness  of  body.  We  all  "see 
through  a  glass  darkly."  Perhaps  we  are  mistaken. 
Perhaps  our  brethren  are  right.     The  possibility  of  this 


52  THE  POWER  OF  DARKNESS. 

should  teach  us  to  differ  meekly,  and  to  avoid,  even 
when  denying  the  infallibility  of  the  Pope,  the  arrogance 
of  one  who  thinks  himself  infaUible.  Of  this,  at  any 
rate,  I  am  sure,  that,  as  objects  are  not  only  obscured 
but  also  magnified  by  mist,  many  points  of  difference 
between  Christian  men  appear  much  larger  now  than 
they  shall  do  when  regarded  by  the  serene  light  of 
a  deathbed,  and  yet  more  certainly  in  the  transparent 
atmosphere  of  heaven.  And  were  it  not  well  if  good  men 
would  never  forget  that  piety,  though  not  consistent  with 
indifference,  is  consistent  with  a  measure  of  error. 
Admit  that,  by  heaping  "  gold,  silver,  precious  stones, 
wood,  hay,  stubble"  on  the  true  foundation,  others  have 
done  wrong  ;  yet  they  shall  be  saved,  though  as  by  fire. 
The  errors  of  many  are  delusions  ;  and  it  is  both  literally 
and  figuratively  true  that  delusions  of  the  brain  are  less 
dangerous  than  diseases  of  the  heart.  A  man,  through 
the  darkness,  may  wander  to  a  greater  or  less  extent 
from  the  plain,  patent,  du-ect  road,  and  yet  get  home. 
And  happiest  though  they  be  who  pursue  their  journey 
in  unclouded  sunshine,  yet  to  the  upright  *'  there  ariseth 
light  in  the  darkness  " — shed  by  the  Spirit  within  their 
souls,  streaming  down  direct  from  heaven.  And  I 
have  often  thought  it  shall  be  with  those  whose  hearts 
beat  true  to  God  and  Jesus  Christ,  as  with  one  who 
loves  his  father  and  his  mother,  and  longs  once  more  to 
see  their  faces,  and  to  hear  their  voices,  and,  after 
weary  years  of  exile,  to  dwell  again  among  brothers  and 
sisters  beneath  the  old  roof-tree.  Little  light  serves  to 
show  him  the  road.     Bent  on  getting  home,  he  will 


THE  POWER  OF  DARKNESS.  53 

cross  the  mountains,  and  ford  the  river,  and  travel  waste 
and  pathless  moors  through  the  mists  of  the  thickest 
day.  What  although  errors,  like  exhalations  from  the 
swampy  ground,  have  risen  up  in  many  churches  to 
obscure  the  heavenly  light?  Where  there  is  genuine 
love  to  Jesus  Christ,  and  God,  and  man,  may  we  not 
cherish  the  hope  that  there  is  truth  enough  to  conduct  to 
heaven  the  steps  of  every  pilgrim  who  is  honestly  and 
earnestly  inquiring  the  way  to  Zion  ?  "  There  shall  be 
a  highway  out  of  Egypt."  "  They  shall  come  from  the 
east  and  from  the  west,  and  from  the  north,  and  from 
the  south," — from  various  climes,  and  from  diverse 
churches, — "  and  shall  sit  down  in  the  kingdom  of  God." 
Nor  do  I  despair  of  any  getting  to  that  heavenly  king- 
dom, who,  though  belonging  to  churches  that  are  dimly 
lighted,  can  discern  upon  the  altar  the  one  sacrifice 
for  sin. 

2.  God's  people  may  be  in  darkness  through  sin. — 
So  long  as  you  walk  in  the  path  of  his  holy  command- 
ments you  walk  in  light,  walk  at  liberty;  you  have 
Jesus'  arm  to  lean  on ;  heaven  lies  straight  on  the  road 
before  you ;  and,  on  your  path,  however  rough  or  steep, 
there  streams  perpetual  sunshine.  In  the  light  of  God's 
word,  and  in  the  beams  of  his  countenance,  the  believer 
has  that  which  imparts  a  genial  waiTQth  to  his  heart  ; 
every  object,  as  in  a  sunny  day,  looks  bright  and 
beautiful;  and  the  clouds,  which  occasionally  sweep 
over  him  and  discharge  their  burden  on  his  head,  are 
spanned,  as  they  pass  away,  by  a  bow  of  hope.     "  Light 


54  THE  POWER  OF  DARKNESS. 

is  sown  for  the  righteous,  and  gladness  for  the  upright 
in  heart." 

"  Restore  unto  me  the  joy  of  thy  salvation  ! "  the 
cry  of  one  who  has  wandered  from  the  paths  of  purity 
and  peace,  leads  us  to  speak,  in  such  cases,  of  God 
withdrawing  the  light  of  his  countenance.  But  is  it  not 
more  strictly  true,  that,  in  turning  aside  from  the  paths 
of  holiness,  we  have  withdrawn  from  that  ?  It  is  he  that 
descends  into  a  pit  who  leaves  the  light,  not  the  light 
that  leaves  him.  So  it  is  with  the  saint — the  deeper  he 
«inks  into  sin,  the  darker  it  grows.  God  will  not  smile 
on  his  child  sinning ;  and  that  which  would  happen 
to  our  world,  were  its  sun  withdrawn,  hefalls  his 
unhappy  soul ;  a  chilling  cold  follows  on  the  darkness, 
and,  but  for  restoring  grace,  death  itself  would  follow  in 
their  train.  The  heart,  that  once  sang  like  a  bird,  is 
now  mute ;  the  beauties  of  religion  are  lost  to  sight ; 
sacraments,  prayers,  pious  services,  cease  to  afford  their 
wonted  pleasure ;  the  joys  of  salvation  —  that  once 
flowed  through  his  heart,  like  silver  streams  among 
flowery  pastures — are  congealed  into  stillness,  silence, 
and  death  ;  the  soul  itself  grows  benumbed,  and  is  seized 
with  a  lethargy  that  would  end  in  death,  did  not  God 
send  some  Nathan  to  break  the  spell,  and  to  rouse  the 
sleeper.  Then,  conscience  awakened  and  alarmed,  in 
what  darkness  does  he  find  himself?  The  sun  is 
down ;  nor  does  a  single  star  cheer  that  deepest  night. 
His  mind  is  tortured  with  dreadful  doubts.  He  recalls 
the  days  of  old,  but  only  to  fear  that  he  was  a  hypocrite 
or    a   self-deceiver.     Where    the    scriptures    speak    of 


TUE  POWER  OF  DARKNESS.  65 

castaways,  of  the  unpardonable  sin,  of  the  impossibiHty 
of  a  renewal  again  unto  repentance,  he  seems  to  read 
his  doom,  written  by  God's  own  finger  in  letters  of  fire. 
Nor  is  the  poor  penitent  backslider  saved  from  utter 
despair,  but  by  clinging  to  the  hope  of  mercy  through  the 
all-cleansing  blood  of  Jesus.  Led  by  this  blessed  angel  to 
"  the  throne  of  grace,"  encouraged  by  this  blessed  pro- 
mise, "  I  will  heal  their  backslidings  and  love  them 
freely,"  he  throws  himself  in  the  dust  to  cry,  "  Hath 
God  forgotten  to  be  gracious?"  "Is  his  mercy  clean 
gone  for  ever?"  "  Restore  unto  me  the  joy  of  thy  sal- 
vation ;  and  uphold  me  with  thy  free  spirit."  Be 
merciful  unto  me,  0  God ;  be  merciful  unto  me." 

These  are  the  words  of  David,  when  under  re- 
morse for  most  terrible  crimes.  But  never  fancy  that 
you  are  in  no  danger  of  losing  the  light  of  God's 
favour,  unless  you  fall  into  a  pit  as  deep,  into  sins  as 
gross  and  grievous,  as  that  good  man  committed.  Beware 
of  so  great  an  error.  No  object,  in  its  own  place  the 
most  innocent,  nor  man,  nor  woman,  nor  husband,  nor 
wife,  nor  child,  nor  bosom  friend — nothing  beneath  the 
sun,  not  the  heaven  above  it,  with  its  holy  pleasures, 
and  high  society,  and  welcome  rest,  may  be  allowed 
to  come  in  between  our  affections  and  Jesus  Christ. 
Let  any  object  whatever  interpose  between  me  and 
the  sun,  and  a  shadow,  more  or  less  cold  and  dark,  is 
the  immediate  consequence  ;  as  happens  when  the  moon, 
forgetting  that  her  business  is  to  reflect  the  sunbeams, 
not  to  arrest  them,  rolls  in  between  our  world  and  him, 
to  turn  day  into  night,  and  to  shroud  us  in  the  gloom 


56  THE  POWER  OF  DARKNESS. 

of  an  eclipse.  Even  so  the  deep  shadow  of  a  spiritual 
darkness  may  be  flung  over  a  congregation,  who, 
allowing  the  pulpit  to  come  in  between  them  and  the 
cross,  think  too  much  of  the  servant  and  too  little  of 
the  Master.  May  not  that  account  for  the  scanty  fruit 
of  a  ministry  from  which  much  might  have  been  ex- 
pected ?  God  will  not  give  his  glory  to  another ;  and 
they  who  in  their  regards  set  the  servant  before  the 
Master,  place  the  preacher  in  a  position  to  intercept  that 
blessing,  without  which  Paul  may  plant  and  Apollos  water, 
but  there  is  no  increase.  When  Alexander  offered  to 
do  Diogenes  any  favour  he  might  ask,  the  philosopher, 
contemplating  in  the  sun  a  far  nobler  object  than  the 
conqueror  of  the  world,  and  setting  a  higher  value  on 
his  beams  than  on  the  brightest  rays  of  royalty,  only 
begged  the  monarch  to  step  aside,  nor  stand  between 
him  and  the  sun.  However  rude  such  answer  on  the 
part  of  the  cynic,  it  were  a  right  noble  speech  from 
you  to  any  and  every  object  that  would  steal  your 
heart  from  Christ.  Let  him,  who  is  all  your  salvation, 
be  all  your  desire.  Is  he  not  "  the  brightness  of  the 
Father's  glory,  and  the  express  image  of  His  person  ?  '* 
Fairer  than  the  children  of  men,  more  lovely  than  the 
loveliest,  he  is  "  the  chiefest  among  ten  thousand  " — 
he  is  "  altogether  lovely." 

3.  God's  people  may  he  in  more  or  less  darkness  as 
to  their  spiritual  state.  It  is  easy  to  account  for  such  a 
case  as  David's.  There,  spiritual  darkness  was  both 
the  consequence  and  the  chastisement  of  a  sad  spiritual 
declension.     It  is  not  always  so.     There  are  cases  of 


THE  POWER  OF  DAKKNESS.  57 

religious  desertion  and  despondency  that  do  not  admit 
of  being  thus  explained.  Without  any  sensible  falling 
away,  the  shadow  of  Calvary  has  spread  itself  over  the 
believer's  soul ;  and,  filling  him  with  awful  horror,  has 
wrung  from  his  lips  that  most  bitter  cry,  "  My  God, 
my  God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ?  "  The  mercy- 
seat  and  the  cross  are  lost  in  darkness.  The  Sun  of 
Righteousness  undergoes  an  eclipse.  Nothing  is  seen 
but  the  lightnings,  and  nothing  heard  but  the  thunders 
of  Sinai  —  flash  follows  flash,  and  peal  thunders  upon 
peal,  while  his  sins  rise  up  in  terrible  memory  before  him. 
Were  such  your  case,  God  has  provided  for  it.  '*  Who," 
says  he,  "  is  among  you  that  feareth  the  Lord,  that 
obeyeth  the  voice  of  his  servant,  that  walketh  in  darkness, 
and  hath  no  light ;  let  him  trust  in  the  name  of  the 
Lord,  and  stay  upon  his  God."  In  these  cases  God  has 
not  left  his  people  comfortless.  If,  perhaps,  like  Peter, 
sinking  in  the  waves  of  Galilee,  the  lightning  flashing 
on  their  foaming  crests,  and  the  thunder  crashing  above 
his  head,  you  have  lost  all  sensible  hold  of  Christ,  it 
does  not  follow  that  Christ  has  lost  saving  hold  of  you. 
You  may  retain  your  hold  when  you  lose  your  sight  of 
him.  God's  people  are  to  hang  on  him  in  their  seasons 
of  deepest  distress.  His  promises  are  a  Father's  arm ; 
and,  clinging  to  these,  trusting  to  him  when  you  can- 
not see  him,  you  may  hope  against  hope,  and  even  rise 
to  the  faith  of  one  who  said,  "  Though  he  slay  me,  yet 
will  I  trust  in  him." 

But  the  spiritual  state  of  some  unquestionably  pious 
people  is  not  occasionally,  but  always  more  or  less  dark. 
I  have  known  such.     They  could  not  find,  at  least  they 


58  THE  POWER  OF  DARKNESS. 

could  not  feel,  any  very  satisfactory  evidence  of  their 
conversion.  We  saw  it ;  they  did  not.  It  happened 
to  them  as  to  Moses.  He  left  the  mount  of  God  with 
the  glory  of  his  face  visible  to  every  one  but  himself. 
This  is  not  a  desirable  state,  certainly,  if  for  no  other 
reason  than  this,  that  he  fights  best,  either  with  men  or 
devils,  who  fights  the  battle  with  hope  at  his  back. 
What  so  likely  to  make  you  diligent  in  preparation  for 
glory,  as  a  clear  prospect  of  heaven,  and  sense  of  your 
holy  calling  ?  Who  that,  footsore,  worn,  and  weary,  has 
toiled  up  some  mountain-height,  from  whose  breezy 
summit  he  saw  his  distant  home,  has  not  found  the 
sight  make  another  man  of  him,  and — all  lassitude 
gone — send  him  off  on  his  journey,  with  bounding  heart 
and  elastic  limbs  ?  Therefore  we  say  with  Paul,  "  Give 
diligence,  to  make  your  calling  and  election  sure." 

Notwithstanding  all  your  pains  and  all  your  prayers, 
have  you  never  yet  attained  to  the  joy  of  faith,  to 
a  full  assurance  of  salvation  ?  Be  not  "  swallowed  up 
with  overmuch  sorrow."  Blessed  are  they  whose  sky 
is  clouded  with  no  doubts  or  fears !  With  music  in 
their  hearts,  and  their  happiness  blowing  like  those 
flowers  that  fully  expand  their  leaves,  and  breathe  out 
their  fragrance  only  on  sunny  days,  they  will  go  up  to 
Ziou  with  songs;  yet,  although  not  so  pleasantly,  they 
may  reach  home  as  safely  who  enjoy  the  light  of  the 
sun,  but  never  see  his  face.  Your  last  hours  may  be 
like  hers  whom  John  Bunyan  calls  Miss  Fearing.  She 
was  all  her  lifetime  "  subject  to  bondage,"  and  dreaded 
the  hour  of  death.  The  summons  comes.  And  when 
she  goes  down  into  the  waters,  how  does  this  shrinking, 


THE  POWER  OF  DARKNESS. 


trembling,  timid  one  bear  herself?  Hand  to  hand, 
Christian  met  his  enemy  in  the  valle}^,  and  so  smote 
Apollyon  with  the  sword  of  the  Spirit,  that  he  spread 
forth  hi3  dragon  wings,  and  sped  him  away ;  yet  where 
that  bold  believer  was  in  deep  waters,  and  all  but 
perished,  this  daughter  of  many  fears  found  the  river 
shallow.  She  beheld  the  opposite  shore  all  lined  with 
shining  angels,  and  passed  with  a  song  from  earth  to 
heaven. 

The  sun,  who  has  struggled  through  clouds  all  day 
long,  often  breaks  forth  into  golden  splendour  at  his 
setting ;  and  not  seldom,  also,  have  the  hopes  that  never 
brightened  life  broken  forth  to  gild  the  departing  hour. 
The  fears  that  hung  over  the  journey  have  vanished  at 
its  close.  The  voice,  that  never  spoke  with  confi- 
dence before,  has  raised  the  shout  of  victory  in  "  the 
valley  of  the  shadow  of  death."  To  the  wonder  of 
men  and  the  glory  of  God,  the  tongue  of  the  dumb  has 
been  unloosed — what  gracious  things  they  have  said  ! 
and  the  blind  have  got  their  sight — what  views  of 
heaven  they  have  had !  and  he,  who  seemed  all  his  life 
but  a  babe  in  Christ,  has  started  up,  like  a  giant  and 
a  strong  man  armed,  to  grapple  w^ith  the  last  enemy. 
Standing  in  the  light  of  life's  declining  day — with.  Satan, 
and  the  world,  and  the  flesh,  and  Death  himself  beneath 
his  feet,  he  spends  his  last  breath  in  the  triumphant 
shout,  "  0  death,  where  is  thy  sting?  0  grave,  where 
is  thy  victory  ?"  "  Thanks  be  to  God,  which  giveth 
rae  the  victory  through  my  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  And 
thus  God  fulfils  the  promise,  "  It  shall  come  to  pass, 
that  at  evening  time  it  shall  be  light." 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHEIST. 

Translated  into  the  kingdom  of  his  dear  Son. — Colossians  i.  13. 

TNSIDE  those  iron  gratings  that  protect  the  ancient 
regalia  of  our  kingdom,  vulgar  curiosity  sees  nothing 
but  a  display  of  jewels.  Its  stupid  eyes  are  dazzled  by 
the  gems  that  stud  the  crown,  and  sword,  and  sceptre. 
The  unreflecting  multitude  fix  their  thoughts  and  waste 
their  admiration  on  these.  They  go  away  to  talk  of 
their  beauty,  perhaps  to  covet  their  possession ;  nor  do 
they  estimate  the  value  of  the  crown  but  by  the  price 
which  its  pearls,  and  rubies,  and  diamonds,  might  fetch 
in  the  market. 

The  eye  of  a  patriot,  gazing  thoughtfully  in  on 
these  relics  of  former  days,  is  all  but  blind  to  what 
attracts  the  gaping  crowd.  His  admiration  is  reserved 
for  other  and  nobler  objects.  He  looks  with  deep  and 
meditative  interest  on  that  rim  of  gold,  not  for  its 
intrinsic  value,  but  because  it  once  encircled  the  brow 
of  Scotland's  greatest  king, — the  hero  of  her  indepen- 
dence, Robert  the  Bruce.  His  fancy  may  for  a  moment 
turn  to  the  festive  scenes  in  yonder  deserted  palace, 
when  that  crown  flashed  amid  a  gay  throng  of  princes, 
and  nobles,  and  knights,  and  statesmen,  and  lords,  and 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST.  61 

ladies,  all  now  mouldered  into  dust ;  but  she  soon  wings 
her  flight  to  the  worthier  and  more  stirring  spectacles 
which  history  has  associated  with  these  symbols  of 
power.  She  sees  a  nation  up  in  arms  for  its  indepen- 
dence, and  watches  with  kindling  eye  the  varying 
fortunes  of  the  fight.  It  rages  around  these  insignia. 
Now,  she  hears  the  shout  of  Bannockburn ;  and  now, 
the  long  wail  of  Flodden.  The  events  of  centuries, 
passed  in  w^eary  war,  roll  by  before  her.  The  red 
flames  burst  from  lonely  fortalice  and  busy  town  ;  the 
smiling  vale,  with  its  happy  homesteads,  lies  desolate ; 
scaffolds  reek  with  the  blood  of  patriots ;  courage 
grapples  with  despair ;  beaten  men  on  freedom's  bloody 
field  renew  the  fight;  and,  as  the  long  hard  struggle 
closes,  the  kingdom  stands  up  like  one  of  its  own  rugged 
mountains, — the  storms  that  expended  their  violence 
on  its  head,  have  left  it  ravaged,  and  seamed,  and 
shattered,  but  not  moved  from  its  place.  It  is  the 
interests  that  were  at  stake,  the  fight  for  liberty,  the 
good  blood  shed,  the  hard  struggles  endured  for  its 
possession  ;  it  is  these,  not  the  jewels,  which  in  a 
patriot's  eye  make  that  a  costly  crown — a  relic  of  the 
olden  time,  worthy  of  a  nation's  pride  and  jealous 
preservation. 

Regarded  in  some  such  light,  estimated  by  the 
sufferings  endured  for  it,  how  great  the  value  of  that 
crown  which  Jesus  wears !  What  a  kingdom  that  which 
cost  God  his  Son,  and  cost  that  Son  his  life !  It  is 
to  that  kingdom  that  we  have  now  to  direct  your 
attention ;  and  for  this  purpose,  let  us  consider — 


62  THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST. 


I.  The  importance  which  Christ  himself  attaches  to  his 
kingly  claims. 

There  are  crowns  worn  by  living  monarchs,  of  which 
it  would  be  difficult  to  estimate  the  value.  The  price 
paid  for  their  jewels  is  the  least  part  of  it.  They 
cost  thousands  of  lives,  and  rivers  of  human  blood ; 
yet  in  his  esteem,  and  surely  in  ours  also,  Christ's 
crown  outweighs  them  all.  He  gave  his  Hfe  for  it; 
and  alone,  of  all  monarchs,  he  was  crowned  at  his 
coronation  by  the  hands  of  Death.  Others  cease  to  be 
kings  when  they  die.  By  dying  he  became  a  king. 
He  laid  his  head  in  the  dust  that  he  might  become 
"head  over  all;"  he  entered  his  kingdom  through  the 
gates  of  the  grave,  and  ascended  the  throne  of  the 
imiverse  by  the  steps  of  a  cross. 

The  connection  between  our  Lord's  sufferings  and 
kingly  claims  marks  some  of  the  most  touching  scenes 
of  his  history.  In  what  character  did  his  people  reject 
him  ?  It  was  as  a  king ;  they  cried  "  We  will  not 
have  this  man  to  reign  over  us."  In  what  guise  did 
the  soldiers  ridicule  and  revile  him  ?  It  was  as  a 
king ;  "  they  clothed  him  with  purple,  and  platted  a 
crown  of  thorns,  and  put  it  about  his  head."  For 
what  crime  was  he  crucified?  It  was  because  he 
claimed  to  be  a  king.  The  noble  character  of  the 
sufferer  shone  through  the  meanest  circumstances  of  his 
death,  and  was  read  in  the  inscription  that  stood  above 
his  dying  head,  "  Jesus  of  Nazareth  the  King  of  the 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST.  C3 

Jews."  His  royal  claims  have  been  lightly  thought  of, 
and  often  trampled  beneath  the  heavy  foot  of  power. 
Men  have  dared  to  treat  them  with  scorn.  Yet  he, 
who  is  surely  the  best  judge  of  their  importance  and 
value,  has  himself  taught  us  a  very  dififerent  lesson ; 
and  in  proof  of  that,  let  us  now  turn  to  two  separate 
occasions  on  which  our  Lord  refused  to  abate  one  iota 
of  these  claims — maintaining  them  under  circumstances 
of  the  strongest  temptation  to  do  otherwise. 

Turn  your  eye  on  that  desert,  where,  Heaven  and 
Hell  watching  the  issue  at  a  distance,  alone  and  without 
attendants,  the  two  mightiest  potentates  that  ever  met 
on  earth,  meet — not  for  conference,  but  for  conflict. 
Knowing  that  he  has  another  now  to  deal  with  than  a 
guileless  woman — the  beautiful  but  fragile  vessel  his 
cursed  hand  shattered  in  Eden — Satan  enters  the  lists, 
armed  with  his  deepest  craft.  He  knows  that  Jesus 
stands  before  him,  a  poor  man ;  who,  though  aspiring 
to  universal  empire,  has  neither  friend  nor  follower, 
neither  fame  nor  rank.  Never  was  deeper  poverty ! 
He  presents  himself  before  us  in  its  most  touching 
aspect — he  has  neither  a  morsel  of  bread  to  eat,  nor  a 
bed  to  lie  on.  Ever  suiting  the  temptation  to  the 
tempted,  and,  like  a  skilful  general,  assaulting  the  citadel 
on  what  he  judges  to  be  its  weakest  side,  Satan  comes 
to  Jesus  with  no  bribe  for  passions  so  low  as  avarice, 
or  lust,  or  ease,  or  self-indulgence.  He  addresses  that 
love  of  power,  which  was  his  own  perdition,  and  is  the 
infirmity  of  loftiest  minds.  Tacitly  acknowledging,  by 
the  magnificence  of  the   temptation,  how  great  is  the 


64  THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST. 

virtue  of  him  whom  he  tempts,  he  offers  him  the  prize 
of  universal  empire.  By  some  phantasm  of  diabolical 
power,  he  presents  a  panoramic  view  of  "  all  the  king- 
doms of  the  world,  and  the  glory  of  them  ;"  and  when  he 
thinks  the  spell  has  wrought,  and  that  he  has  roused  the 
dormant  passion  to  its  highest  pitch,  he  turns  round  to 
Jesus,  saying,  "  All  these  things  will  1  give  thee,  if  thou 
wilt  fall  down  and  worship  me,"  He  shall,  and  shall 
for  ever,  be  king,  if  he  will  for  once  yield  up  his  claims, 
and  receive  the  kingdom  at  Satan's  hand.  No  ;  neither 
from  such  hands,  nor  on  such  conditions,  will  our  Lord 
receive  the  sceptre.  He  stands  firm  upon  his  own 
right  to  it ;  and,  rather  than  yield  that  up,  is  ready  to 
endure  the  cross  and  despise  the  shame.  He  turns 
with  holy  scorn  from  the  temptation,  and  foils  the 
Enemy  with  the  words,  "  Thou  shalt  worship  the  Lord 
thy  God,  and  him  only  shalt  thou  serve." 

Turn  now  to  another  scene.  Jesus  stands  before 
Pilate.  Alone  ?  Not  now  alone ;  worse  than  alone. 
Deserted  by  the  few  humble  friends  he  had,  without  one 
to  know  him,  he  is  confronting  malignant  and  powerful 
accusers.  A  savage  crowd  surrounds  him.  Blind  to 
his  divine  excellence,  deaf  to  the  calm  voice  of  reason, 
dead  to  gentle  pity,  they  glare  on  him  with  their  eyes  ; 
they  gnash  their  teeth  at  him ;  nor  are  restrained  but 
by  the  steady  port  and  resolute  demeanour  of  these 
Roman  guards  from  rushing  in  like  a  pack  of  blood- 
hounds, and  tearing  him  to  pieces.  Blessed  Lord! 
now,  now  mayest  thou  say,  "My  soul  is  among  lions;  and 
I  lie  even  among  them  that  are  set  on  fire,  even  the  sons 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST.  65 

of  men,  whose  teeth  are  spears  and  arrows,  and  their 
tongue  a  sharp  sword."  There,  in  that  hour,  see  how 
his  life  hangs  on  a  thread,  on  a  single  word.  Every 
charge  they  have  brought  against  him  has  broken  down — 
bursting  into  spray  and  foam,  as  I  have  seen  the 
sea-wave  that  has  launched  itself  upon  a  rock.  Leaving 
their  v^itnesses  to  convict  themselves  of  perjury,  he  pre- 
serves, on  his  part,  unbroken  silence.  Serene  and 
unmoved  he  stands  the  cruel  pelting  of  the  storm. 
Shame  to  his  chosen  disciples,  shame  to  his  followers, 
shame  even  to  the  thousands  he  had  blessed  and  cured, 
not  one  is  there  to  espouse  his  cause  ;  and,  boldly  step- 
ping out,  to  say,  in  the  face  of  that  infuriate  crowd, 
"  I  know  the  man  ;  I  know  him  to  be  the  purest,  kindest, 
greatest,  best  of  men.  Assembly  of  murderers !  crucify 
him  not;  or,  if  you  will  perpetrate  so  foul  a  crime, 
crucify  me  with  him." 

Such  are  the  circumstances  in  which  Pilate  puts  his 
question,  "  Art  thou  the  King  of  the  Jews  ?"  On  this 
question,  and  our  Lord's  answer,  everything  is  now  to 
turn.  The  crisis  has  come.  His  fate  is  in  the  balance. 
Let  him  say.  No,  and  resign  his  claim — he  lives  ;  and,  the 
baffled  crowd  dividing  before  him  like  the  sea  of  old 
before  the  host  of  Israel,  he  leaves  the  bar  for  life  and 
liberty.  Let  him  maintain  his  silence — continue  dumb, 
he  is  safe.  Unless  he  compromise  himself,  this  coward 
judge  condemns  not  "  innocent  blood."  Have  you 
ever  been  present  in  a  court  of  justice  when  the  bell 
rang,  and  the  jury  returned,  and  the  foreman  rose  to 
pronounce  a  verdict  of  death  or  life  on  the  pale,  anxious, 

D  2 


66  THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST. 

trembling  wretch  who  stood  before  you  ?  Then  you 
can  fancy  the  deep,  hushed,  breathless  silence,  with 
which  judge,  and  accusers,  and  the  whole  multitude, 
bend  forward  to  catch  our  Lord's  reply.  If  he  claims 
to  be  a  king,  he  seals  his  fate.  If  he  renounces  and 
disavows  his  right,  the  Roman  sets  him  at  liberty.  Our 
Lord  foresees  this.  He  has  a  full  foreknowledge  of  all 
the  consequences  of  the  word  he  is  now  to  speak. 
Yet  he  claims  the  crown.  Refusing  to  abandon,  or 
even  to  conceal  his  kingly  character,  he  returns  to  Pilate 
this  bold  reply,  "  Thou  sayest ;"  in  other  words,  "  I  am 
a  king" — King  of  the  Jews. 

How  do  these  facts  illustrate  the  pre-eminent  im- 
portance which  Jesus  attached  to  his  ofiSce  and  character 
as  a  king !  They  do  more  than  illustrate,  they  demon- 
strate it.  To  explain  this,  let  me  recall  a  recent  cir- 
cumstance to  your  recollection.  When  our  Indian 
empire  was  shaken  to  its  foundations,  and,  as  many 
feared,  tottering  to  its  fall,  the  enemy  in  one  instance 
offered  terms  of  compromise.  They  were  rejected. 
Unmoved  by  the  most  adverse  fortunes,  undismayed 
by  the  pestilence,  starvation,  and  murder,  which  stared 
them  in  the  face,  with  the  hope  of  relief  burning  lower 
and  lower  as  the  weary  days  wore  on,  our  gallant 
countrymen,  in  the  darkest  hour  and  crisis  of  their 
fortunes,  would  listen  to  no  compromise.  They 
could  die,  but  not  yield ;  and  so  sent  back  this  stern 
answer,  "  We  refuse  to  treat  with  mutineers."  And, 
if  we  would  yield  up  no  right  in  the  hour  of  our 
greatest  weakness  and  terrible  extremity,  far  less  shall 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST.  67 

we  do  SO  with  the  tide  of  battle  turned  in  our  favour, 
and  that  enemy  crushed,  or  crouching  in  abject  terror 
at  our  feet.  Now,  our  Lord  had  the  strongest  tempta- 
tions to  abandon  his  kingly  claims  ;  and  if  he  refused  to 
give  them  up  in  the  desert,  w^here  he  had  not  a  morsel 
to  eat,  and  at  the  bar,  when  to  have  parted  with  them 
would  have  saved  his  life,  he  is  not  likely  now  certainly 
to  yield  one  jot  or  tittle  of  what  belongs  to  him  as  a 
King.  He  has  no  inducement  to  do  so.  A  friendless 
prisoner  no  more,  he  stands  at  the  right  hand  of  God  ; 
the  head  which  was  bound  round  with  a  thorn  wreath, 
now  wears  the  crown  of  earth  and  heaven  ;  and  the 
hand  they  mocked  with  a  reed  sways,  over  angels,  men, 
and  devils,  the  sceptre  of  universal  empire.  Think  you 
that  Christ  will  allow  Satan,  or  the  world,  or  the  flesh, 
to  pluck  from  his  power  what  they  could  not  wring  from 
his  weakness  ?  Never.  He  wdll  never  consent  to  share 
his  throne  with  rivals  from  whom  he  won  it.  He  claims 
to  reign  supreme  in  your  hearts,  in  every  heart  which 
his  grace  has  renewed,  over  all  whom  he  has  conquered 
by  love  and  redeemed  with  blood. 

Would  God  that  we  could  live  up  to  that  truth ! 
How  often,  and  to  w^hat  a  sad  extent,  is  it  forgotten  ! 
each  of  us  doing  w^hat  is  right  in  his  own  eyes,  as  if 
there  was  no  king  in  Israel.  Oh,  that  we  were  as 
anxious  to  be  delivered  from  the  power,  as  all  of  us  are 
to  escape  the  punishment,  of  sin  !  1  do  not  say  that 
we  should  look  less  to  Christ  as  a  Saviour,  but  we  should 
certainly  look  more  to  him  as  a  sovereign ;  nor  fix  our 
'attention  on  his  cross,  so  much  to  the  exclusion  of  his 


68  THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST. 

crown.  We  are  not  to  yield  him  less  faith,  but  more 
obedience.  We  should  not  less  often  kiss  his  wounds, 
but  more  frequently  his  feet.  We  can  never  too  highly 
esteem  his  love,  but  we  may,  and  often  do,  think  too 
lightly  of  his  law.  His  Spirit  helping  us,  let  his  claims 
on  our  obedience  be  as  cheerfully  conceded  as  his  claim 
to  our  faith  ;  so  that  to  our  love  of  his  glorious  person, 
and  his  saving  work,  we  may  be  able  to  add  with  David, 
"  0  how  love  I  thy  law !  " 

II.   Consider  from  whom  Christ  received  the  kingdom. 

1.  He  did  not  receive  it  from  the  Jews.  "  He  came 
unto  his  own,  and  his  own  received  him  not." 

Once,  indeed — like  stony-ground  hearers,  like  some 
who  make  a  flaming  profession  of  religion  to  abandon  it 
almost  as  soon  as  they  embrace  it — the  Jews  seemed 
eager  to  receive  Jesus.  They  even  attempted  to  thrust 
royal  honours  on  him ;  "  Jesus  perceived  that  they 
would  come  and  take  him  by  force  to  make  him  a 
king."  Afterwards,  and  by  one  of  those  popular  move- 
ments, which,  in  the  form  of  a  panic  or  an  enthusiasm, 
rises  rapidly,  like  a  flooded  river,  to  sweep  in  its  headlong 
course  stones  as  well  as  straws  before  it,  they  bore  him 
in  royal  state  on  to  the  capital.  Not  with  sacred  oil, 
or  golden  crown,  or  imperial  purple,  but  such  royal 
insignia  as  the  circumstances  admitted  of,  they  invested 
their  new-made  king.  They  denuded  themselves  of  their 
garments  to  carpet  the  dusty  road.  Mothers  held  up 
their  babes  to  see  him ;  women  and  children  filled  the 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST.  69 

joyous  air  with  loud  hosannas ;  grey  old  men,  as  the 
procession  swept  by,  shed  tears  of  joy  that  the  long- 
looked  for  hour  had  come ;  and,  marching  with  the 
tramp  of  freemen — as  if  every  foot  beneath  its  tread 
crushed  a  Roman  eagle — strong  men,  with  ten  thousand 
stout  arms  ready  to  fight  for  his  crown,  waved  green 
palms  in  anticipation  of  triumph  and  victory.  Thus  the 
living  wave,  swelling  higher  as  it  advanced,  rolled  on  to 
Jerusalem,  bearing  Jesus  forward  to  the  throne  of 
David.  For  his  mother,  for  the  Marys,  for  his  disciples, 
for  all  ardent  patriots,  it  was  a  glorious  hour.  Alas ! 
how  soon  all  was  changed  !  It  passed  like  a  beautiful 
pageant — passed  like  the  watery  gleam  of  a  stormy 
day— passed  like  a  brilliant  meteor  that  shoots  athwart 
the  dusky  sky.  A  few  days  afterwards,  and  Jerusalem, 
with  a  crowd  as  great,  presents  another  spectacle.  The 
stage,  the  actors,  the  voices,  are  the  same ;  but  the 
drama,  if  I  may  so  speak,  how  dififerent !  This  brief 
act  of  honour  and  duty,  homage  and  triumph,  is  closely 
followed  by  an  awful  tragedy.  We  have  seen  tales 
of  horror  and  shocking  butchery  shake  the  heart  of  a 
whole  nation ;  but  this  event  struck  the  insensate  earth 
with  trembling,  spread  a  pall  of  mourning  over  the 
whole  firmament,  filling  creation  wdth  such  signs  of 
bereavement  as  fill  a  house  when  its  head  is  smote  down 
by  the  hand  of  death.  The  tide,  which  bore  Jesus  to 
the  crown,  turns  ;  and  when  next  we  see  him,  he  hangs 
basely  murdered  upon  a  cross.  An  inconstant  people 
have  taken  the  object  of  their  brief  idolatry,  and,  like 
an  angry  child  with  its  toy,  dashed  it  on  the  ground. 


70  THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST. 

The  only  crown  our  Lord  gets  from  man  is  woven  of 
thorns.  His  Father  had  said,  "  He  shall  be  exalted 
and  extolled,  and  be  very  high;"  and  man  found  no 
way  of  fulfilling  that  old  prophecy,  but  to  raise  him, 
amid  shouts  and  laughter,  naked  and  bleeding,  on  the 
accursed  tree.  "  He  came  unto  his  own,  and  his  own 
received  him  not." 

I  know  that  a  nation  is  not  always  to  be  held 
accountable  for  the  acts  of  its  rulers.  A  righteous  pubHc 
may  have  the  conscience  to  disapprove  what  they  have 
not  the  power  to  prevent.  But  our  Lord's  death  was 
no  act  of  the  government,  or  simply  the  act  of  Pilate, 
or  of  the  priests  and  statesmen  of  the  time.  It  was  a 
great  national  deed.  In  that  vast  assembly  which 
pronounced  the  verdict,  there  was  certainly  not  a  city, 
nor  village,  nor  hamlet,  nor  perhaps  even  a  shepherd's 
solitary  hut  among  the  uplands  of  Judea,  but  had  its 
representative.  So,  when  Pilate  put  the  question,  it  was 
the  voice  of  the  entire  country  that  made  itself  heard 
in  the  unanimous  and  fatal  verdict,  "  We  will  not  have 
this  man  to  reign  over  us" — yesterday  we  would; 
to-day  we  won't ;  let  him  die ;  away  with  him  to  the 
cross.  Horrible  crime !  yet  one,  alas !  in  a  sense  still 
repeated,  often  repeated ;  and  for  no  other  reasons  than 
at  the  first.  If  Christ  would  have  consented  to  rule  on 
their  terms,  the  Jews  would  have  made  him  king.  Had 
he  agreed  to  establish  an  earthly  monarchy,  to  gratify 
the  nation's  thirst  for  vengeance  on  their  Roman 
masters,  to  make  Jerusalem  the  proud  capital,  and  the 
Jews  sole  sovereign  rulers  of  a  conquered  world,  they 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST.  71 

would  have  revolted  to  a  man.  Religion  lent  its 
intensity  to  the  burning  hatred  which  they  bore  against 
the  empire  of  the  Caesars;  and,  on  such  conditions, 
those  who  crucified  him  would  have  fought  for  him 
v/ith  the  resolution  which  held  Jerusalem,  till  delicate 
women  devoured  their  children,  and  men,  famished  into 
ghastly  skeletons,  met  the  Romans  in  battle  under 
a  canopy  of  flames,  and  in  the  throat  of  the  deadly 
breach. 

Now,  to  this  day,  how  many  would  accept  of  Jesus' 
as  king,  would  he  but  consent  to  their  terms — allow 
them  to  indulge  their  lusts,  and  retain  their  sins !  If, 
like  some  eastern  princes,  who  leave  the  reins  of  govern- 
ment in  other  hands,  he  would  rest  contented  with  the 
shadow  of  royalty,  with  the  mere  name  and  empty  title 
of  a  king,  many  would  consent  to  be  his  subjects.  But 
be  assured  that  he  accepts  not  the  crown,  if  sin  is  to 
retain  the  sceptre.  He  requires  of  all  who  name  his 
name,  that  they  "  depart  from  iniquity ;"  and,  with 
"holiness  unto  the  Lord"  written  on  their  foreheads, 
that  they  take  up  their  cross,  and  deny  themselves 
daily,  and  follow  him.  On  this  account  he  is  still  practi- 
cally rejected  by  thousands — whose  profession  of  religion 
is  a  name  and  shadow.  How  is  that  old  cruel  tragedy 
repeated  day  by  day  within  the  theatre  of  many  a 
heart !  God  says,  "  This  is  my  beloved  Son,  in  whom 
I  am  well  pleased ;"  the  preacher  brings  Jesus  forth  for 
acceptance,  clothed  in  purple,  and  crowned  with  thorns, 
and  all  the  tokens  of  his  love  upon  him,  saying, 
"  Behold  the  man ;"  conscience  is  aroused  to  a  sense  of 


72  THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST. 

his  claims ;  but  these  all  are  clamoured  down.  Stirred 
up  by  the  devil— the  love  of  the  world,  the  lust  of  the 
flesh,  the  lust  of  the  eye,  the  pride  of  life,  and  all  the 
corrupt  passions  of  our  evil  nature,  rise  like  that  Jewish 
mob  to  cry,  "  We  will  not  have  this  man  to  reign  over 
us."  Let  the  fate  of  these  Jews  warn  you  against  their 
sin ;  for  if  God  did  such  things  in  the  green  tree,  what 
shall  he  do  in  the  dry?  Be  assured  that,  unless  you 
are  obeying  Christ  as  a  sovereign,  you  have  never  yet 
known  him  as  a  Saviour.  Your  faith  is  vain.  His 
cross  and  his  crown  are  inseparable. 

2.  He  does  not  receive  the  kingdom  from  his  own 
people. 

Some  have  fought  their  way  onward  to  a  palace, 
leaving  the  print  of  a  bloody  foot  on  every  step  that 
led  them  to  the  throne.  And  what  violence  or  villany, 
or  both,  have  won,  despotism  holds.  I  could  point  to 
lands  where  the  ambitious  adventurer  who  has  seized 
the  throne  is  a  tyrant,  and  his  subjects  are  crouching 
slaves — as,  indeed,  men  ever  will  be,  who  want  the 
backbone  of  religion  to  keep  them  erect.  It  is  God- 
fearing piety  which  makes  a  man  the  best  subject  of 
a  good  government,  and  the  most  formidable  enemy  to 
a  bad  one.  Animated  by  its  lofty  hopes,  sustained  by 
its  enduring  spirit,  a  true  Christian  is  not  the  man  to 
sell  his  liberties  for  a  dishonourable  peace,  nor  his  birth- 
right for  "  a  mess  of  pottage." 

Our  happy  land,  in  contrast  with  most  other 
countries,  presents  an  illustrious  example  of  a  family 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST.  73 

crowned,  I  may  say,  by  the  hands  of  the  people — called 
to  the  throne  by  the  free  voice  of  a  nation.  The 
sceptre,  which  a  female  hand  sways  so  well  and  grace- 
fully over  the  greatest,  freest,  empire  in  the  world,  was, 
nigh  two  hundred  years  ago,  wrenched  from  the  grasp 
of  a  poor  popish  bigot ;  and  his  successor  was  borne 
to  the  vacant  throne  on  the  arms  of  a  people,  who, 
to  their  everlasting  honour,  considered  crowned  heads 
less  sacred  than  their  liberties  and  religion. 

Is  it  by  any  such  act  of  his  people  that  Christ  has 
been  crowned  ?  Is  he  in  this  sense  a  popular  monarch, 
one  raised  to  the  throne  by  the  suffrages  of  the  people  ? 
No.  Here  the  king  elects  his  subjects — not  the  subjects 
their  king ;  and  in  that,  as  in  many  other  senses,  he 
who  is  both  our  Saviour  and  our  sovereign  says,  ''  My 
kingdom  is  not  of  this  world."  There  have  been  many 
disputes  about  the  doctrine  of  election,  and  these  have 
given  birth  to  many  most  learned  and  profound 
treatises ;  the  combatants  on  one  side  maintaining  that 
in  election  God  had  respect  to  the  good  works  which 
he  foresaw  men  were  to  do,  while  their  opponents  have, 
as  we  think  more  wisely,  held,  that  in  all  cases  his 
choice  is  as  free  and  sovereign  as  when,  descending  on 
the  plains  of  Damascus,  he  called,  in  Saul  of  Tarsus,  the 
greatest  persecutor  of  his  church,  to  be  its  greatest 
preacher.  It  was  on  this  subject  that  an  aged  Christian 
uttered  a  remarkable  saying,  which  I  may  apply  to  the 
matter  in  hand.  She  had  listened  with  patience  to  a 
fine-spun  and  very  subtle  argument  against  the  doctrine 
of  a  free  election.     She  did  not  attempt  to  unravel  it. 


74  THE  KINGDOJii  OF  CHRIST. 

She  had  no  skill  for  that ;  but  broke  her  way  out  as 
through  the  meshes  of  a  cobweb  with  this  brief  reply, 
"  I  believe  in  the  doctrine  of  a  free  election ;  because 
I  know,  that  if  God  had  not  first  chosen  me,  I  had  never 
chosen  him." 

That  reply,  which  was  quite  satisfactory  to  her 
simple  piety,  and  will  weigh  more  with  many  than  a 
handred  ponderous  volumes  of  theological  learning, 
rests  on  the  depravity  of  our  nature,  and  applies  to 
our  present  subject.  Aliens  by  nature  to  the  common- 
wealth of  Israel,  and  the  enemies  of  God  by  wicked 
works,  it  is  absolutely  necessary  that  Christ  should  first 
choose  you  as  his  subjects,  before  you  can  choose  him 
as  your  king.  Hence  our  catechism  says,  "  Christ 
executeth  the  oflSce  of  a  king  in  suhduing  us  to  himself, 
ruling  and  defending  us,  and  restraining  and  conquering 
all  his  and  our  enemies."  Thus,  Prince  of  Peace 
though  he  be,  in  the  Psalms  and  elsewhere  he  is  pictured 
forth  as  a  warrior  armed  for  the  battle  ;  a  sword  girded 
on  his  thigh,  a  bow  in  his  hand,  zeal  glowing  in  his 
eyes,  he  drives  the  chariot  of  the  gospel  into  the  thick 
of  his  enemies.  And  as  our  own  nation  lately,  with 
prayers  for  their  success,  sent  ojff  her  armies  to  reduce 
to  obedience  a  revolted  province,  God,  when  sending  his 
Son  to  our  world,  addressed  him  as  one  about  to  engage 
in  a  similar  enterprise  ;  "  Gird  thy  sword  upon  thy 
thigh,  0  most  mighty,  with  thy  glory  and  thy  majesty. 
And  in  thy  majesty  ride  prosperously,  because  of  truth, 
and  meekness,  and  righteousness ;  and  thy  right  hand 
shall  teach  thee   terrible   things.      Thine    arrows    are 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST.     .  75 

8harp  in  the  heart  of  the  king's  enemies;  whereby 
the  people  fall  under  thee.'* 

Christ  does  indeed  reign  by  conquest ;  but  his 
reign  is  not  therefore  one  of  terror.  The  very  opposite. 
He  reigns,  as  he  conquered,  by  love.  For,  although 
in  the  first  instance  his  people  neither  choose  him,  nor 
call  him  to  the  throne,  afterwards,  what  king  so  well 
beloved?  Enthroned  in  the  heart,  he  rules  them 
through  their  affections ;  nor  employs  any  but  that 
which  is  at  once  the  softest  and  strongest,  the  gentlest 
and  mightiest  of  all  forces,  the  power  of  love.  He 
subdues,  but  it  is  to  save  you.  He  wounds,  but  it 
is  to  heal  you.  He  kills,  but  it  is  to  make  you  alive. 
It  was  to  crown  you  with  glory  that  he  bowed  his 
head  to  that  crown  of  thorns.  Other  sovereigns  may 
have  rendered  good  service  to  the  state,  and  deserved 
its  gratitude ;  but  Christ's  is  the  only  throne,  filled  by 
a  living  king,  who  has  this  at  once  most  singular  and 
sublime  claim  on  the  devoted  attachment  of  his  sub- 
jects, that  he  died  to  save  them.  "  I  am  he  that  liveth, 
and  was  dead." 

We  are  not  such  subjects  as  we  should  be.  Yet 
the  world  is  not  to  be  allowed  to  forget,  that,  imperfect 
as  our  obedience  is,  his  people  are  not  insensible,  nor 
have  they  shown  themselves  insensible,  to  the  paramount 
claims  w4iich  Jesus  has  upon  their  loyalty.  In  our  eyes, 
the  grace  and  glory  of  other  sovereigns  pales  before 
his — as  stars  when  the  sun  has  risen  ;  nor  is  there  any 
one  we  ever  saw,  or  our  affections  ever  clung  to,  whom 
we  feel  we  should  love  as  we  ought  to  love  Jesus  Christ. 


76  THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST. 

True  piety  is  not  hypocrisy;  and  it  is  due  alike  to 
Christ  and  the  interests  of  religion,  that  the  world 
should  know  that  the  love  his  people  bear  for  him  is  a 
deeper  affection  than  what  the  mother  cherishes  for 
the  babe  that  hangs  helpless  on  her  bosom  ;  a  stronger 
passion  than  the  miser  feels  for  the  yellow  gold  he 
clutches.  With  the  hand  of  the  robber  compressing 
his  throat,  to  have  his  grey  hairs  spared,  he  would 
give  it  all  for  dear  life ;  but  loving  Jesus,  whom  they 
never  saw,  better  than  father,  or  mother,  or  sister,  or 
brother,  or  lover,  or  life  itself,  thousands  have  given 
up  all  for  him.  Not  regretting,  but  rejoicing  in  their 
sacrifices,  they  have  gone  bravely  for  his  cause  to  the 
scaffold  and  the  stake. 

It  is  easy  to  die  in  a  battle-field — to  confront  death 
there.  There,  earthly  prizes  are  won — stars,  bright 
honours,  are  glittering  amid  that  sulphureous  smoke ; 
there,  earthly  passions  are  to  be  gratified — my  sister 
was  wronged,  my  mother  butchered,  my  little  brother's 
brains  dashed  out  against  the  wall.  I  am  a  man,  and 
could  believe  the  story  told  of  our  countrymen  ;  how 
each,  having  got  a  bloody  lock  of  a  murdered  woman's 
hair,  sat  down  in  awful,  ominous  silence  ;  and,  after 
counting  the  number  that  fell  to  each  man's  lot,  rose 
to  swear  by  the  great  God  of  heaven,  that  for  every 
hair  they  would  have  a  life.  Amid  such  scenes,  with 
passions  boiling,  vengeance  calls  for  blood,  hurling  me, 
like  a  madman,  on  the  hedge  of  steel ;  and,  where  the 
shout  of  charging  comrades  cheers  him  on,  the  soldier 
is  swept  forward  on  blazing  guns  and  bristling  bayonets, 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST.  77 

in  a  whirlwind  of  wild  excitement.  But,  to  lie  pining 
in  a  dungeon,  and  never  hear  the  sweet  voice  of  human 
sympathy ;  to  groan  and  shriek  upon  the  rack,  where 
cowled  and  shaven  murderers  are  as  devoid  of  pity  as 
the  cold  stone  walls  around ;  to  suffer  as  our  fathers 
did,  when,  calm  and  intrepid,  they  marched  down  that 
street  to  be  hung  up  like  dogs  for  Christ's  crown  and 
kingdom,  implies  a  higher  courage,  is  a  far  nobler, 
manlier,  holier  thing.  Yet  thousands  have  so  died  for 
Jesus.  Theirs  has  been  the  gentle,  holy,  heroic  spirit 
of  that  soldier  boy,  whose  story  is  one  of  the  bright 
incidents  that  have  relieved  the  darkness  of  recent 
horrors,  and  shed  a  halo  of  glory  around  the  dreadful 
front  of  war.  Dragged  from  the  jungle,  pale  with 
loss  of  blood,  wasted  to  a  shadow  with  famine  and  hard- 
ship, far  away  from  father,  or  mother,  or  any  earthly 
friend,  and  surrounded  by  a  cloud  of  black  incarnate 
fiends,  he  saw  a  Mahometan  convert  appalled  at  the 
preparations  for  his  torture — about  to  renounce  the 
faith.  Fast  dying,  almost  beyond  the  vengeance  of 
his  enemies,  this  good  brave  boy  had  a  moment  more 
to  live,  a  breath  more  to  spend.  Love  to  Jesus,  the 
ruling  passion,  was  strong  in  death ;  and  so,  as  the 
gates  of  heaven  were  rolling  open  to  receive  his  ran- 
somed spirit,  he  raised  himself  up,  and,  casting  an 
imploring  look  on  the  wavering  convert,  cried — "  Oh, 
do  not  deny  your  Lord  1"  A  noble  death,  and  a  right 
noble  testimony ! 

Would  to  God  that  we  always  heard  that  voice  and 
cry,  when,  in  the  ordinary  circumstances  of  life,  we  are 


78  THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST. 

tempted  to  commit  sin.  I  say  the  ordinary  circum- 
stances of  life ;  for  it  would  almost  seem  as  if  when  we 
are  least  tried,  we  are  most  in  danger.  On  grand 
occasions  faith  rises  to  the  trial ;  and  such  is  the  vitality 
of  Christian  love,  that,  like  the  influence  of  the  wind  on 
fire,  the  storm  seems  rather  to  blow  up  than  to  blow 
out  the  flame.  How  often  have  Christ's  people  fouDd 
it  easier  to  withstand  on  great  occasions  than  on  small 
ones !  Those  will  yield  to  some  soft  seduction,  and 
fall  into  sin,  who,  put  to  it,  might  stand  up  for  the 
cause  of  truth  and  righteousness  as  bravely  as  he  who, 
in  yonder  palace,  stands  like  a  rock  before  the  king. 
Commanded  to  do  what  lays  Christ's  crown  at  Csesar's 
feet,  he  refuses.  It  is  a  thing  which,  though  ready  to 
dare  death,  he  dare  not,  and  he  will  not  do.  He  ofiers 
his  neck,  but  refuses  that — addressing  himself  in  some 
such  words  as  these  to  the  imperious  monarch,  "  There 
are  two  kingdoms  and  two  kings  in  Scotland ;  there  is 
King  Jesus  and  King  James ;  and  when  thou  wast  a 
babe  in  swaddling  clothes,  Jesus  reigned  in  this  land, 
and  his  authority  is  supreme." 

Would  to  God  that  we  had,  whenever  we  are 
tempted  to  commit  sin,  as  true  a  regard  for  Christ's 
paramount  authority !  With  special  reference  to  our 
own  hearts  be  the  prayer  ever  ofiered,  thy  kingdom 
come — take  to  thee  thy  great  power  and  reign.  Ours 
be  thy  prayer,  0  David — "  Cleanse  me  from  secret  faults, 
and  keep  back  thy  servant  also  from  presumptuous  sins ; 
let  them  not  have  dominion  over  me."  Alas,  how  often 
do   we  unwittingly,  thoughtlessly,   rashly,    under    the 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST.  79 

lingering  influence  of  old  bad  habits,  swept  away  by- 
some  sudden  temptation,  some  outburst  of  corruption, 
practically  deny  the  Lord  that  bought  us,  and  yield  our 
members  to  be  the  servants  of  sin !  Let  us  confess  it. 
Often  are  we  constrained  to  say,  with  Ezra,  when  he 
rent  his  mantle,  and  fell  on  his  knees,  and  spread  out 
his  hands  unto  the  Lord,  "Oh  my  God,  I  am  ashamed 
and  blush  to  lift  up  my  face  to  thee,  my  God ;  for 
our  iniquities  are  increased  over  our  heads,  and  our 
trespass  is  grown  up  unto  the  heavens."  Yet  let  not 
the  worldling  go  away  to  triumph  over  such  confessions, 
and  allege  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  genuine 
religion  or  true  love  to  Christ.  This  much  I  will 
venture  to  say  for  his  people,  and  for  the  grace  of 
God,  in  which  their  great  strength  lies — Put  us  to  the 
test,  give  us  time  for  prayer  and  reflection,  and  there 
are  thousands  who,  rather  than  renounce  Jesus  Christ, 
would  renounce  their  life,  and,  with  unfaltering  footstep, 
tread  the  well-beaten  path  that  the  martyrs  have  made  to 
glory.  Faith,  eyeing  the  opening  heavens,  would  stand 
on  the  scaffold,  and  say,  as  she  changed  a  Jewish  into  a 
Christian  hymn — If  I  forget  thee,  0  Jesus,  let  my  right 
hand  forget  her  cunning.  If  I  do  not  remember  thee, 
let  my  tongue  cleave  to  the  roof  of  my  mouth ;  if  I 
prefer  not  Jesus  above  my  chief  joy  ! 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST. 

{Continued.) 

Translated  us  into  the  kingdom  of  his  dear  Son. — Colossians  i.  13. 

npHERE  was  an  ancient  and  universal  custom  set 
aside,  on  his  coronation  day,  by  that  great  emperor 
who  bestrode  the  world  Hke  a  Colossus,  till  we  locked 
him  up  in  a  sea-girt  prison — chained  him,  like  an  eagle, 
to  its  barren  rock.  Promptly  as  his  great  military 
genius  was  wont  to  seize  some  happy  moment  to  turn 
the  tide  of  battle,  he  seized  the  imperial  crown.  Regard- 
less alike  of  all  precedents,  and  of  the  presence  of  the 
Roman  Pontiff  whose  sacred  office  he  assumed,  he  placed 
the  crown  on  his  own  head ;  and,  casting  an  eagle  eye 
over  the  applauding  throng,  stood  up,  in  the  pride  of  his 
power,  every  inch  of  him  a  king.  The  act  was  like  the 
man — bold,  decisive ;  nor  was  it  in  a  sense  untrue,  its 
language  this,  The  crown  I  owe  to  no  man ;  I  myself 
have  won  it ;  my  own  right  arm  hath  gotten  me  the 
victory.  Yet,  with  some  such  rare  exceptions,  the 
universal  custom,  on  such  occasions,  is  to  perform  this 
great  act  as  in  the  presence  of  God  ;  and,  adding  the 
solemnities  of  religion  to  the  scene,  by  the  hand  of  her 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST.  81 

highest  minister  to  crown  the  sovereign.  It  is  a  grace- 
ful and  a  pious  act,  if,  when  religion  is  called  to  play 
so  conspicuous  a  part,  on  such  a  stage,  and  in  the 
presence  of  such  a  magnificent  assembly,  all  parties 
intend  thereby  to  acknowledge  that  crowns  are  the  gift 
of  God,  that  sovereigns  as  well  as  subjects  are  answer- 
able for  their  stewardship,  and  that  by  Him  whose 
minister  performs  the  crowning  act,  kings  reign,  and 
princes  decree  justice. 

According  to  that  scripture,  God  sets  up  one  and 
puts  down  another,  plucks  the  sceptre  from  the  hand 
of  this  man,  and  gives  it  to  that,  and,  as  our  days  have 
seen,  makes  fugitives  of  kings,  to  raise  a  beggar  from 
the  dust  and  the  needy  from  the  dunghill,  and  set 
him  with  princes.  And  what  he  does  in  an  ordinary 
and  providential  sense  to  all  kings,  he  did  in  a  high, 
and  pre-eminent,  and  special  sense  to  his  own  Son. 
The  "  divine  right  of  kings,"  with  which  courtiers  have 
flattered  tyrants,  and  tyrants  have  sought  to  hedge 
round  their  royalty,  is  a  fiction.  In  other  cases  a  mere 
fiction,  it  is  in  Christ's  case  a  great  fact.  The  crown 
that  rests  on  his  head  was  placed  there  by  the  hands  of 
Divinity.  It  was  from  his  eternal  Father  that  he  re- 
ceived the  reward  of  his  cross,  in  that  kingdom,  which, 
as  we  have  already  shewed,  he  received  neither  from 
the  Jews,  nor  from  his  own  people.  "  Yet,"  says  God, 
"  have  I  set  my  king  upon  my  holy  hill  of  Sion."  And 
so  I  remark — 

3.  Jesus  received  the  kingdom  from  God. 

When  we  look  at  the  two  occasions — both  of  them 


82  THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST. 

great  occasions— ou  which  our  Lord  was  crowned,  what 
a  striking  contrast  do  they  present  ? 

The  scene  of  the  first  is  laid  on  earth.  Its  circum- 
stances are  described  by  the  evangehsts — men  who  were 
the  sad  eye-witnesses  of  the  events  that  they  relate. 
And  when  we  have  found  ourselves  unable,  without 
trembling  voice,  and  swimming  eyes,  and  kindling  pas- 
sions, to  read  some  of  those  touching  letters  which  tell 
how  brothers,  and  tender  sisters,  and  little  children,  and 
sweet  babes,  and  beloved  friends,  were  pitilessly  massacred 
— when  one  remembers  how,  even  at  this  distance  from 
India's  bloody  scenes,  we  were  ready  to  take  fire,  and 
swell  the  cry  that  called  for  vengeance  on  such  revolting 
cruelties,  nothing  in  the  Bible  seems  more  divine  than 
the  calm,  even,  unimpassioned  tone  with  which  our 
Lord's  disciples  describe  the  events,  and  write  the  moving 
story  of  their  Master's  wrongs.  Where  one  would  fancy 
an  angel  might  have  been  stirred  to  anger,  or  would 
have  covered  his  eyes  and  wept  outright  for  sorrow, 
their  voice  seems  never  to  falter,  nor  their  pen  to  shake, 
nor  their  page  to  be  blotted  by  a  falling  tear.  Where, 
we  are  ready  to  ask,  is  John's  fond  love,  Peter's  ardent 
temper,  the  strong  impetuous  passions  of  these  unsophis- 
ticated men  ?  Nor  is  there  any  way  of  accounting  for 
the  placid  flow  of  their  narratives,  other  than  the  fact 
that  holy  men  of  old  spake  and  wrote  as  they  were 
moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  were  the  organs  of  Him 
whose  complacency  no  event  ruffles,  and  who,  dwelling 
in  the  serene  altitudes  of  his  divine  nature,  is  raised  high 
above  all  passion. 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  CUKIST.  83 

Let  US  look  then  at  the  scene  of  our  Lord's  first 
coronation  as  they  present  it.  Jesus  is  handed  over  to 
men  of  blood.  Behold  him  stripped  of  his  raiments  I 
His  wasted  form — for  it  is  he  who  speaks  in  the  prophetic 
words,  "  I  may  tell  all  my  bones ;  they  look  and  stare 
upon  me," — moves  no  pity;  no  more,  his  meek  and 
patient  looks.  They  tie  him  to  a  post.  They  plough 
long  furrows  on  his  back.  And  now,  cruel  work  is  to 
be  followed  by  more  cruel  sport.  Laughing  at  the 
happy  thought,  his  guards  summon  all  the  band,  and 
hurry  ofi"  their  faint  and  bleeding  prisoner  to  some 
spacious  hall.  The  expression  may  seem  coarse,  but  it 
is  true — they  make  game  of  the  Lord  of  Glory.  And 
when  the  shocking  play  is  at  its  height,  what  a  sight 
there  to  any  disciple  who  should  venture  to  look  in  ! 
Mute  and  meek,  Jesus  sits  in  that  hall — a  spectacle  of 
woe  ;  an  old  purple  robe  on  his  bleeding  back ;  in  his 
hand  a  reed ;  and  on  his  head  a  wreath — not  of  laurel, 
but  of  thorns,  while  the  blood,  trickling  down  from 
many  wounds  over  his  face,  falls  on  a  breast  that  is 
heaving  with  a  sea  of  sorrows.  Angels  look  on,  fixed 
with  astonishment ;  devils  stand  back,  amazed  to  see 
themselves  outdone ;  while  all  around  his  sacred  person 
the  brutal  crowd  swells  and  surges.  They  gibe ;  they 
jeer ;  they  laugh ;  some  in  bitter  mockery  bend  the  knee, 
as  to  imperial  Csesar ;  while  others,  to  give  variety  to 
the  hellish  sport,  pluck  the  reed  from  his  unresisting 
hand,  and  beat  the  thorns  deep  into  his  brows ;  and 
ever  and  anon  they  join  in  wild  chorus,  making  the  hall 
ring  to  the  cry,  "  Hail,  King  of  the  Jews." 


84  THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST. 

The  people  of  Bethlehem,  one  day  as  they  looked 
out  at  their  doors,  saw  a  poor  widow,  bent  and  grey 
with  grief  and  age,  walking  up  their  street,  who  was 
accompanied  by  a  Moabitess — poorly  clad  and  widowed 
like  herself.  She  is  at  length  recognised.  It  is  Naomi ! 
The  news  flies  through  the  town.  But  when  her  old 
acquaintances  who  hastened  to  greet  her,  beheld  in 
such  poor  guise  one  who  had  left  them  in  circumstances 
of  envied  affluence,  happy  with  a  loving  husband  at 
her  side,  and  at  her  back  two  gallant  sons,  they  were 
seized  with  blank  amazement.  They  held  up  their 
hands  to  cry,  "  Is  this  Naomi?"  And  how  might  the 
angels,  who  had  adored  the  Son  as  he  lay  in  the  bosom 
of  the  Father,  or,  singing  in  the  skies  of  that  same 
Bethlehem,  had  bent  down  to  gaze  with  wonder  and 
admiration  on  the  babe  of  Mary's  breast,  regard  the 
spectacle  in  that  hall  with  greater  bewilderment — ex- 
claiming, "  Is  this  the  Son  of  God?" 

These  twisted  thorns  formed  the  crown  wherewith 
"  his  mother  crowned  him  in  the  day  of  his  espousals." 
Nor  should  we  leave  that  to  turn  our  eyes  on  another 
scene,  till  we  have  thought  with  godly  sorrow  of  the 
sins,  and  with  deep  affection  of  the  love,  which  brought 
Jesus  from  heaven  to  meet  such  sufferings.  In  these 
wounds  and  blows  he  took  our  sins  upon  him ;  in  these 
indignities  he  was  wounded  for  our  transgressions ; 
he  was  bruised  for  our  iniquities ;  the  chastisement  of 
our  peace  was  upon  him ;  and  with  his  stripes  we  are 
healed. 

Turn  now  from  this  cruel  mockery  to  the  other 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST.  86 

scene  where  he  received  a  dijBfcrent  crown,  in  a  different 
assembly,  and  from  very  different  hands.  The  cross  is 
standing  vacant  and  lonely  on  Calvary — the  crowd  all 
dispersed ;  the  tomb  is  standing  empty  and  open  in  the 
garden — the  Roman  sentinels  all  withdrawn ;  and  from 
the  vine-covered  sides  of  Olivet  a  band  of  men  are 
hastily  descending — joy,  mingled  with  amazement,  in 
their  looks.  With  the  bearing  of  those  that  have  a 
high  enterprise  before  them,  they  are  rushing  down  the 
mountain  upon  the  world — a  stream  of  life  which  is 
destined  to  roll  on  till  salvation  reaches  the  ends  of  the 
earth.  While  the  disciples  come  down  to  the  world, 
Jesus,  whom  a  cloud  received  from  their  sight,  goes  up 
to  heaven  ;  and,  corresponding  to  the  custom  of  those 
olden  days,  when  the  successful  champion  was  carried 
home  in  triumph  from  the  field,  borne  high  through 
applauding  throngs  on  the  shields  of  his  companions,  our 
Lord  enters  into  glory,  escorted  by  a  host  of  angels. 
His  battle  over,  and  the  great  victory  won,  the  conqueror 
is  now  to  be  crowned,  throned,  installed  into  the  king- 
dom. Behold  the  scene  as  revealed  by  anticipation  to 
the  rapt  eyes  of  Daniel : — "  I  saw  in  the  night  visions, 
and,  behold,  one  like  the  Son  of  Man  came  with  the 
clouds  of  heaven,  and  came  to  the  Ancient  of  Days, 
and  they  brought  him  near  before  him.  And  there 
was  given  him  dominion,  and  glory,  and  a  kingdom, 
that  all  people,  nations,  and  languages  should  serve 
him :  his  dominion  is  an  everlasting  dominion,  which 
shall  not  pass  away,  and  his  kingdom  that  which  shall 
not  be  destroyed." 


80  THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST. 


Thus  our  Lord  received  the  crown  from  his  own 
Father's  hand  ;  and  then,  it  might  be  said,  was  the 
Scripture  fulfilled,  "  He  shall  see  of  the  travail  of  his 
soul,  and  shall  be  satisfied."  Yet  observe,  I  pray  you, 
that,  in  a  sense,  he  is  not  satisfied.  Is  there  no  satisfy- 
ing of  the  greedy  grave  ?  None.  Death  has  been  feed- 
ing its  voracious  maw  these  many  thousand  years ;  and 
yet,  how  does  it  open  that  wide  black  mouth  to  cry, 
''Give,  give,  give?"  Nor,  in  one  sense,  is  there  any 
satisfying  of  the  love  of  Christ.  It  is  deeper  than  the 
grave ;  and  its  desires  grow  with  their  gratification. 
Incessantly  pleading  for  more  saved  ones,  Jesus  entreats 
his  Father — his  cry  also,  "  Give,  give."  Yes ;  he 
would  rather  hear  one  poor  sinner  pray,  than  all  these 
angels  sing ;  see  one  true  penitent  lying  at  his  feet, 
than  all  these  brilliant  crowns.  In  glory,  where  every 
eye  is  turned  upon  himself,  his  eyes  are  bent  down 
on  earth.  I  fancy  that  amid  the  pomp  of  state,  and 
splendid  enjoyments  of  the  palace,  it  is  little  that 
the  sovereign  thinks  of  the  poor  felon  who  pines 
in  lonely  prison,  crushed  and  terror-stricken,  with 
haggard  face  and  heavy  heart,  waiting  the  death  to 
which  the  law  has  doomed  him  ;  seldom,  perhaps,  in 
fancy,  does  that  pallid  wretch  intrude  himself  where  all 
wear  smiles,  or  send  a  hollow  groan  from  his  cell  to 
move  one  thought  of  pity,  or  disturb  the  sparkling  flow 
of  royal  pleasures.  But  Jesus  does  not  forget  the 
wretchedness  of  the  lost  amid  the  happiness  of  the 
saved.  Their  miseries  are  before  him ;  and  amid  the 
high  hallelujahs  of  tho  upper  sanctuary,  he  hearkens  to 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST. 


the  groans  of  the  prisoner  and  the  cry  of  the  perishing. 
And — like  a  mother,  whose  loving  heart  is  not  so  much 
with  the  children  housed  at  home,  as  with  the  fallen, 
beguiled,  and  lost  one,  who  is  the  most  in  her  thoughts, 
and  oftenest  mentioned  in  her  prayers — Jesus  is  think- 
ing now  of  every  poor  careless  sinner  with  his  lost  soul, 
and  the  sentence  of  death  hanging  over  his  guilty  head. 
He  pities  you  from  his  heart.  He  would  save  you, 
would  you  consent  to  be  saved.  And  you,  who  were 
never  honoured  with  an  invitation  to  a  palace  on  earth, 
you  who  are  never  Hkely  to  be  so  honoured,  you,  by 
whom  this  world's  pettiest  monarch  would  haughtily 
sweep,  nor  deem  you  worthy  of  the  smallest  notice, 
Jesus,  bending  from  his  throne,  invites  to  share  his  glory, 
and  become  with  him  kings  and  priests  unto  God. 

in.  Let  us  enquire  in  what  character  Jesus  holds  this 
kingdom. 

It  is  not  as  God,  nor  as  man,  he  holds  it ;  but  as 
both  God  and  man.  Mediator  of  the  New  Covenant, 
the  monarch  of  a  new  kingdom.  What  he  was  on 
earth  he  is  still  in  heaven — God  and  man  for  ever. 

Our  Lord  appeared  in  both  these  characters  by  the 
grave  of  Lazarus.  "  Jesus  wept."  Brief  but  blessed 
record  !  These  were  precious  tears.  The  passing  air 
kissed  them  from  his  cheek,  or  they  were  drunk  up  of 
the  earth,  or  they  glistened  but  for  a  little,  like  dew-drops 
on  some  lowly  flower ;  yet  assuring  us  of  his  sympathy 
in  our  hours  of  sorrow,  their  memory  has  been  bealmg 


88  THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST. 

balm  to  many  a  bleeding  heart.  Weeping,  his  bosom 
rent  with  groans,  he  stands  revealed — bone  of  our  bone, 
flesh  of  our  flesh — a  brother  born  for  adversity,  for  the 
bitter  hour  of  household  deaths,  to  impart  strength  to 
the  arms  that  lay  the  dead  in  the  coffin,  or  slowly  lower 
them  into  the  tomb.  Yet  mark  how,  by  the  same  grave, 
he  stands  revealed  in  another  character,  with  his  divine 
majesty  plainly  unveiled.  To  weep  for  the  dead  may  be 
weakness,  but  to  raise  the  dead  is  power.  Like  the 
clear  shining  after  rain,  when  every  tree  seems  hung 
with  quivering  leaves  of  light,  and  the  heath  of  the 
moor  sparkles,  and  gleams,  and  burns  with  the  changing 
hues  of  countless  diamonds,  see  how,  after  that  shower 
of  tears,  the  sun  of  Christ's  Godhead  bursts  forth  on 
the  scene,  and  he  appears  the  brightness  of  his  Father's 
glory.  Men  have  wept  with  him ;  but  there,  where  he 
stands  face  to  face  with  grim  death,  let  both  men  and 
angels  worship  him.  Death  cowers  before  his  eye.  He 
puts  off  the  man,  and  stands  out  the  God;  and  the 
wonder  of  the  dead  brought  to  life  is  lost  in  the  higher 
wonder  of  one  who  could  weep  as  a  man,  and  yet  work 
as  a  God. 

On  the  Sea  of  Galilee  also,  our  Lord  appears  in  both 
characters.  The  son  of  Mary  sleeps.  His  nights  have 
been  spent  in  prayer,  and  his  days  in  preaching,  heal- 
ing, incessant  works  of  benevolence — he  has  been  teach- 
ing us  how  we  also  should  go  about  doing  good — he  has 
been  practically  rebuking  those  whose  days  are  wasted  in 
ease  and  idleness,  or  whose  evenings,  not  calm  like 
nature's,  but  passed  amid  the  whirl  of  excitement,  or  in 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST. 


guilty  pleasures,  sweet  slumbers  refuse  to  bless.  Now 
wearied  out  with  labour,  the  sou  of  Mary  sleeps.  There 
is  no  sleeping  draught,  no  potion  of  the  apothecary  that 
can  impart  such  deep  refreshing  slumbers  as  a  good 
conscience  and  a  busy  day's  good  work.  Proof  of  that, 
stretched  on  his  bare,  hard  couch,  Jesus  sleeps — amid  the 
howling  of  the  wind,  the  dash  and  roar  of  stormy  billows, 
sleeps  as  soundly  as  he  ever  slept  a  babe  in  his  mother's 
arms.  He  lay  down  a  weary  man ;  but  see  how  he 
rises  at  the  call  of  his  disciples  to  do  the  work  of  a  God. 
On  awaking,  he  found  the  elements  in  the  wildest  uproar, 
the  waves  were  chasing  each  other  over  the  deep,  the 
heavens  were  sounding  their  loudest  thunders,  the  light- 
nings were  playing  among  the  clouds,  and  the  winds,  let 
loose,  were  holding  free  revelry  in  the  racked  tormented 
air.  As  I  have  seen  a  master,  speaking  with  low  and 
gentle  voice,  hush  the  riotous  school  into  instant  silence, 
so  Jesus  spake.  Raising  his  hand,  and  addressing  the 
rude  storm,  he  said  "  Peace,  be  still."  The  wind  ceased, 
and  there  was  a  great  calm.  No  sooner,  amid  the 
loudest  din,  does  nature  catch  the  well-known  sound  of 
her  master's  voice,  than  the  tumult  subsides;  in  an  instant 
all  is  quiet ;  and,  with  a  heave  as  gentle  as  an  infant's 
bosom,  and  all  heaven's  starry  glory  mirrored  in  its 
crystal  depths,  the  sea  of  Galilee  lies  around  that  boat— 
a  beautiful  picture  of  the  happy  bosom  into  which  heaven 
and  its  peace  have  descended.  "  Justified  by  faith," 
purchased  by  the  blood  of  Christ,  and  blessed  with  his 
presence,  *'  we  have  peace  with  God  through  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ." 

£2 


90  THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST. 

Now  those  two  natures  which  our  Lord  thus  revealed 
on  earth,  he  retains  in  heaven.  And  as  both  God  and 
man,  he  occupies  the  throne  of  grace,  and  the  throne  of 
providence — holding  under  his  dominion  all  worlds,  and 
principalities,  and  powers ;  for,  in  him  dwelleth  all  the 
fulness  of  the  Godhead  bodily,  and  he  has  been  made 
Head  over  all  things  to  the  church.  This  must  be  so. 
He  got  the  kingdom  ;  and,  simply  as  God,  there  could  be 
no  addition  made  to  his  possessions.  Simply  as  God,  he 
could  get  nothing,  because  all  things  were  already  his. 
You  cannot  add  to  the  length  of  eternity ;  nor  extend  the 
measure  of  infinity ;  nor  make  absolute  perfection  more 
perfect;  nor  add  one  drop  to  a  cup,  nor  even  to  an 
ocean,  already  full. 

And  as,  on  the  one  hand,  our  Lord  did  not  get 
this  kingdom  simply  as  God,  neither,  on  the  other  hand, 
did  he  receive  it  simply  as  man.  To  suppose  so,  were 
to  entertain  an  idea  more  absurd,  more  improbable,  more 
impossible,  than  the  fable  of  Atlas,  who,  according  to  wild 
heathen  legends,  bore  the  world  on  his  giant  shoulders. 
How  could  an  arm  that  once  hung  around  a  mother's 
neck  sustain  even  this  world?  But  he,  who  lay  in  the 
feebleness  of  infancy  on  Mary's  bosom,  and  rested  a 
wayworn  and  weary  man  on  Jacob's  well,  and,  faint 
with  loss  of  blood,  sank  in  the  streets  of  Jerusalem 
beneath  the  burden  of  a  cross,  now  sustains  the  weight 
of  this  and  of  a  thousand  worlds  besides.  It  is  told 
as  an  extraordinary  thing  of  the  first  and  greatest 
of  all  the  Caesars,  that  such  were  his  capacious  mind, 
his   mighty  fiiculties,  and   his  marvellous  command  of 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST.  91 

them,  that  he  could  at  once  keep  six  pens  running  to 
his  dictation  on  as  many  different  subjects.  That  may, 
or  may  not  be  true ;  but  were  Jesus  Christ  a  mere  man, 
in  the  name  even  of  reason,  how  could  he  guard  the 
interests,  and  manage  the  affairs  of  a  people,  scattered 
far  and  wide  over  the  face  of  the  habitable  globe? 
What  heart  were  large  enough  to  embrace  them  all ; 
what  eyes  could  see  them  all ;  what  ears  could  hear 
them  all  ?  Think  of  the  ten  thousand  prayers  pro- 
nounced in  a  hundred  different  tongues  that  go  up  at 
once,  and  altogether,  to  his  ear !  Yet  there  is  no  con- 
fusion ;  none  are  lost ;  none  missed  in  the  crowd.  Nor 
are  they  heard  by  him  as,  standing  on  yonder  lofty  crag, 
we  hear  the  din  of  the  city  that  lies  stretched  out  far 
beneath  us,  with  all  its  separate  sounds  of  cries,  and 
rumbling  wheels,  and  human  voices,  mixed  up  into  one 
deep,  confused,  hollow  roar— like  the  boom  of  the  sea's 
distant  breakers.  No  ;  every  believer  may  feel  as  if  he 
were  alone  with  God— enjoying  a  private  audience  of 
the  king  in  his  presence-chamber.  Be  of  good  cheer. 
Every  groan  of  thy  wounded  heart,  thy  every  sigh,  and 
cry,  and  prayer,  falls  as  distinctly  on  Jesus'  ear  as  if 
you  stood  beside  the  throne,  or,  nearer  still,  lay  with 
John  in  his  bosom,  and  felt  the  beating  of  his  heart 
against  your  own. 

Jesus  Christ,  God  and  man  for  ever,  what  a  grand 
and  glorious  truth !  How  full  of  encouragement  and 
comfort  to  those,  like  us,  who  have  sins  to  confess, 
sorrows  to  tell  him,  and  many  a  heavy  care  to  cast 
upon  his  sympathy  and  kindness.     Since  Mary  kissed 


92  THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST. 

his  blessed  feet,  since  Lazarus'  tomb  moved  his  ready 
tears,  since  Peter's  cry  brought  him  quick  to  the  rescue, 
since  John's  head  lay  pillowed  on  his  gentle  bosom, 
since  a  mother's  sorrows  were  felt  and  cared  for  amid 
the  bitter  agonies  of  his  dying  hour,  he  has  changed 
his  place,  but  not  his  heart.  True  man  and  Almighty 
God — God  and  man  for  ever — believer,  let  him  sustain 
thy  cares.  Thy  case  cannot  be  too  difficult,  nor  thy 
burden  too  heavy  for  one  who  guides  the  rolling  planets 
on  their  course,  and  bears  on  his  unwearied  arm  the 
weight  of  a  universe. 

IV.   Let  me  urge   you   to   seek   an    interest    in    this 
kingdom. 

Your  eternal  welfare  turns  on  that.  You  must  be 
saved  or  damned ;  crowned  in  heaven  or  cursed  in 
hell.  Jesus  said.  My  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world ; 
and  blessed  be  God  that  it  is  not.  For  those  very 
features  by  which  it  is  distinguished  from  the  world's 
kingdoms  are  among  its  most  encouraging  aspects  to  us. 
They  are  bright  with  hope  to  the  chief  of  sinners. 

The  poor  say  there  is  little  chance  or  hope  for  them 
in  this  hard  world.  Well,  are  you  poor  ?  I  had  almost 
said,  so  much  the  better.  "  To  the  poor  the  Gospel  is 
preached."  You  can  get  on  well  enough  to  heaven 
without  gold.  The  wealth  on  which  the  kingdoms  of 
this  world  set  so  high  a  value,  and  which,  for  all  their 
talk  of  blood  and  breeding,  has  bought  the  coarse  ple- 
beian a  marriage  into  proud  patrician  famiHes,  is  here 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  CURIST. 


rather  a  hinderance  than  a  help.  Has  not  the  Lord 
of  this  kingdom  said,  It  is  easier  for  a  camel  to  go 
through  the  eye  of  a  needle,  than  for  a  rich  man  to 
enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God  ? 

In  the  freest  and  best  governed  states,  birth,  and 
wealth,  and  rank,  and  blood,  give  to  their  envied  posses- 
sors great — often  too  great  advantages.  It  is  the  high- 
born chiefly  that  approach  the  person  of  the  sovereign, 
enjoy  the  honours  of  the  palace,  and  fill  the  chief  oflSces 
of  the  state.  Royal  favours  seldom  descend  so  low  as 
humble  life.  The  grace  of  our  King,  however,  is  like 
those  blessed  dews  that,  while  the  mountain  tops 
remain  dry,  lie  thick  in  the  valleys ;  and,  leaving  the 
proud  and  stately  trees  to  stand  without  a  gem,  hang 
the  lowly  bush  with  diamonds,  and  sow  the  sward 
broadcast  with  orient  pearl.  This  is  the  kingdom  for 
the  mean,  and  the  meek,  and  the  poor,  and  the  humble ! 
Its  King  has  said.  Not  many  mighty,  not  many  noble, 
are  called.  Blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit ;  for  theirs  is 
the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

There  is  no  degradation  in  honest  poverty.  But 
are  you  degraded,  debased,  an  outcast  from  decent,  good 
society — characterless  ?  Nor  does  that  exclude  you  from 
the  mercy  and  grace  of  God — "  Go  ye,"  he  said,  "  into 
all  the  world,  and  preach  the  gospel  to  every  creature." 
Go  to  the  gallows  ;  and  preach  it  to  the  man  with  a  rope 
on  his  neck,  and  his  feet  on  the  drop.  Go  to  the  jail  ; 
and  preach  it  to  the  scum  of  the  city.  Go  to  her  dens 
of  iniquity ;  and  preach  it  as  freely  and  fully  as  in  her 
highest  and  holiest  congregation.     Saving,  gentle,  pity- 


94  THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST. 

ing  mercy,  turns  no  more  aside  from  the  foulest  wretch, 
than  the  wind  that  kisses  her  faded  cheek,  or  the  sun- 
beam that  visits  as  brightly  a  murderer's  cell  as  a 
minister's  study.  !N"ay — though  the  holiest  of  all  king- 
doms— while  we  see  a  Pharisee  stand  astonished  to 
be  shut  out,  mark  how,  when  she  approaches,  who, 
weeping,  trembUng  all  over,  hardly  dares  lift  her  hand  to 
knock,  the  door  flies  wide  open ;  and  the  poor  harlot 
enters  to  be  washed,  and  robed,  and  forgiven,  and  kindly 
welcomed  in. 

Have  you  done  nothing  to  merit  this  kingdom  ? 
Who  has?  DidManasseh?  Did  Simon  Peter?  Did 
Saul  of  Tarsus  ?  Was  it  his  hands,  reeking  with  the 
blood  of  Stephen,  that  earned  for  him  the  saving  grace, 
and  the  honours  of  the  chief  apostleship  ?  Was  it  for 
one  look  of  pity,  one  word  of  kind  sympathy  from  their 
lips,  that,  as  his  murderers  nailed  him  to  the  tree,  our 
dying  Lord  raised  his  eyes  to  heaven  and  prayed.  Father, 
forgive  them  ;  for  they  know  not  what  they  do  ?  No. 
They  say,  and  why  may  not  we.  Not  by  works  of 
righteousness  which  we  have  done,  but  according  to 
his  mercy  he  saved  us,  by  the  washing  of  regeneration, 
and  renewing  of  the  Holy  Ghost  ? 

Yet,  though  not  saved  by  obedience,  remember  that 
submission  to  Christ's  commandments  is  required  of 
all  those  who  belong  to  his  kingdom  ;  and  that  the  very 
foundations  of  spiritual  as  of  common  liberty  are  laid  in 
law — are  right  government  and  righteous  laws.  There 
is  no  true  liberty  without  law.  Nor  can  you  fancy  a 
more    unhappy  condition  for   a   country  than    that   of 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST.  95 

Israel  when,  without  king  or  government,  "  every  raan 
did  that  which  was  right  in  his  own  eyes."  Ours  is  a  free 
country,  for  instance;  yet  where  is  law  so  paramount? 
The  baton  of  the  humblest  constable  carries  more  autho- 
rity here  than  sceptres  have  done  elsewhere.  Liberty  is 
not  only  the  birthright  of  its  sons,  but  should  a  slave 
once  touch  these  shores,  he  drops  his  chain,  and  is  free 
as  the  waves  that  beat  them.  Still,  it  is  freedom  under, 
not  without,  law.  He  is  not  at  liberty  to  do  what  he 
chooses — he  cannot  seize  my  property.  He  is  not  at 
liberty  to  go  where  he  chooses — he  cannot  enter  the 
humblest  cottage  without  its  owner's  consent.  He  is 
not  at  liberty  to  act  as  he  chooses — commit  a  private 
wrong,  ov  disturb  the  public  peace.  Yet  he  is  free  ; 
only,  in  escaping  from  a  slave-cursed  soil  to  a  land  of 
freedom,  he  has  not  placed  himself  beyond  authority ; 
but  has  exchanged  lawless  oppression  for  lawful  govern- 
ment. So  is  it  with  you  whom  the  truth  has  made  free. 
To  you  the  gospel  is  *'  a  law  of  liberty,"  because, 
bursting  the  bonds  of  sin  and  Satan,  it  sets  you  free  to 
obey  the  law  of  God.  The  believer  gladly  accepts  of 
Christ's  yoke,  and  delights  in  the  law  of  God  after  the 
inward  man,  saying.  Oh  how  love  I  thy  law,  it  is  my 
meditation  all  the  day. 

In  a  general  sense,  we  are  all  the  subjects  of  Christ's 
kingdom.  It  embraces  the  boundless  universe.  And, 
he  who  once  had  not  a  place  wherein  to  lay  his  head, 
now  reigns  over  a  kingdom,  the  extent  of  which  reduces 
our  proud  boast  to  contempt.  Tell  me  that  the  sun 
never    sets    on    Britain's    empire,    and  that  before  he 


96  THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST. 

has  sunk  on  one  province,  he  has  arisen  on  another; 
that  sun,  which  wheels  his  mighty  course  in  heaven, 
shines  but  on  an  outlying  corner  of  the  kingdom  over 
which  Jesus  reigns.  To  many  of  its  provinces  he 
appears  but  as  a  twinkling  star ;  and  in  others,  lying  far 
beyond  the  range  of  his  beams,  immeasurable  distance 
hides  him  from  view.  But  no  distance  removes  any  part 
of  creation  beyond  our  Saviour's  authority.  He  stands 
on  the  circle  of  the  heavens,  and  his  kingdom  ruleth 
over  all. 

In  a  saving  sense,  however,  Christ's  kingdom  is  not 
without,  but  within  us.  Its  seat  is  in  the  heart ;  and 
unless  that  be  right  with  God,  all  is  wrong.  It  does 
not  lie  in  outward  things.  It  is  not  meat  and  drink — 
not  baptism  or  the  communion — not  sobriety,  purity, 
honesty,  and  the  other  decencies  of  a  life  of  common 
respectability.  "  Except  a  man  be  born  again,  he  can- 
not see  the  kingdom  of  God."  Its  grace  and  power 
have  their  emblem  in  the  leaven  this  woman  lays, 
not  on  the  meal,  but  in  the  meal  —  in  the  heart  of 
the  lump,  where,  working  from  within  outwards,  from 
the  centre  to  the  circumference,  it  sets  the  whole  mass 
fermenting — changing  it  into  its  own  nature.  Even 
so  the  work  of  conversion  has  its  origin  in  the  heart. 
When  grace  subdues  a  rebel  man,  if  I  may  so  speak, 
the  citadel  first  is  taken  ;  afterwards,  the  city.  It  is  not 
as  in  those  great  sieges  which  we  have  lately  watched 
with  such  anxious  interest.  There,  approaching  with 
his  brigades,  and  cavalry,  and  artillery,  man  sits  down 
outside  the  city.     He  begins  the  attack  from  a  distance  ; 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  CHRIST.  97 

creeping,  like  a  lion  to  the  spring — with  trench,  and 
parallel,  and  battery — nearer  and  nearer  to  the  walls. 
These  at  length  are  breached;  the  gates  are  blown  open ; 
through  the  deadly  gap  the  red  living  tide  rolls  in. 
Fighting  from  bastion  to  bastion,  from  street  to  street, 
they  press  onward  to  the  citadel ;  and  there,  giving  no 
quarter  and  seeking  none,  beneath  a  defiant  flag,  the 
rebels,  perhaps,  stand  by  their  guns,  prolonging  a 
desperate  resistance.  But  when  the  appointed  hour  of 
conversion  comes,  Christ  descends  by  his  Spirit  into 
the  heart — at  once  into  the  heart.  The  battle  of  grace 
begins  there.  Do  you  know  that  by  experience  ? 
The  heart  won,  she  fights  her  way  outward  from  a 
new  heart  on  to  new  habits ;  a  change  without  succeeds 
the  change  within,  even  until  the  kingdom — which, 
in  the  house  of  God,  by  the  body  of  the  solemn  dead, 
over  the  pages  of  the  Bible,  amid  the  wreck  of  health 
or  ruins  of  fortune,  came  not  with  observation — comes 
to  be  observed.  A  visible  change  appears  in  the 
whole  man.  May  it  appear  in  you !  then,  though  the 
world  may  get  up  the  old  half-incredulous,  half-scornful 
cry.  Is  Saul  also  among  the  prophets?  good  men 
shall  rejoice  on  earth,  and  angels  celebrate  the  event 
in  heaven 


THE  TRANSLATION. 

And  hath  translated  us  into  the  kingdom  of  his  dear  Son. — Col.  i.  13. 

A  LL  pain,  that  is  passing,  and  not  perpetual,  is,  in 
that  circumstance,  attended  with  great  consola- 
tion. This  is  true  of  pain,  whether  its  seat  be  the 
body  or  mind;  whether  it  be  a  dead,  or,  worse  still, 
a  living  grief;  the  pangs  of  disease,  the  lingering  suf- 
ferings of  a  common,  or  the  terrible  shock  of  a  violent 
death.  It  will  soon  be  over,  says  a  man  ;  and,  with  that, 
he  bares  his  quivering  limb  for  the  surgeon's  knife ;  or, 
eyeing  the  tall  black  gallows,  walks  with  firm  step  and 
erect  mien  to  stand  beneath  the  dangling  noose.  Say- 
ing to  himself,  It  will  soon  be  over,  he  closes  his  eyes, 
casts  away  the  handkerchief,  and  takes  the  leap  into 
eternity. 

This  feeling  enters  as  an  element  into  Christian  as 
well  as  common  heroism.  I  knew  a  precious  saint  of 
God  who  was  often  cast  into  the  furnace,  but  always, 
like  real  gold,  to  shine  the  brighter  for  the  fire ;  and 
who,  having  now  left  her  sorrows  all  behind  her,  has 
joined  the  company  of  whom  the  angel  said,  "  These 
are  they  which  came  out  of  great  tribulation,  and  have 


THE  TRANSLATION.  99 


washed  their  robes,  and  made  them  white  in  the  blood 
of  the  Lamb;  therefore,"  in  the  front  rank  as  the 
highest  peers  of  heaven,  "  are  they  before  the  throne  of 
God."  The  courage  with  which  she  met  adversity — 
one  trial  after  another,  shock  succeeding  shock,  billow 
bursting  on  the  back  of  billow — was  as  remarkable  as 
the  strength  with  which,  though  a  bruised  reed,  she 
seemed  to  bear  it.  Where  did  her  great  strength  lie  9 
The  grand  secret  of  that  serene  demeanour  and  uncom- 
plaining patience  was,  no  doubt,  a  sense  of  the  divine 
favour.  The  peace  of  God  kept  her  heart  and  mind 
through  Jesus  Christ.  Yet  her  sorrows  found  a  solace, 
life's  bitterest  hour  a  sweetness,  also,  in  the  simple 
couplet  that  was  often  on  her  hps — 

"  Come  what,  come  may ; 
Time  and  the  hour  runs  through  the  roughest  day." 

This  prospect  of  relief,  this  not  distant  end  of  suf- 
fering, has  often  divested  even  the  grave  of  its  horrors. 
"  There'll  be  no  sorrow  there."  Ah  !  that  sometimes 
■turns  our  eyes  with  a  longing  look  on  its  deep  dream- 
less sleep.  Supporting  and  restraining  them  by  his 
grace,  God  with  one  hand  keeps  his  people  up  under 
their  sorrows,  and  with  the  other  keeps  them  back  from 
anticipating  their  appointed  time.  They  do  not  rush 
on  death,  nor  go  unsummoned  to  the  bar  of  judg- 
ment. Unless  reason  give  way,  and  responsibility 
cease,  they  wait  his  time,  and  bide  it  as  their  own ; 
holding  their  post  like  a  sentinel  who,  however  cold 
the   night,   or  fierce   the   storm,   or   thick  the   battle. 


100  THE  TKANSLATION, 


refuses  to  desert  it  till  he  is  duly  relieved.  They 
say  with  Job,  All  the  days  of  my  appointed  time  will 
I  wait,  till  my  change  come.  Yet,  with  whatever 
bravery  trials  are  met,  and  with  whatever  patience  they 
are  borne,  there  are  times  when  the  prospect  of  relief, 
which  even  the  grave  affords,  is  most  welcome.  An 
object  of  aversion  to  light-hearted  childhood^  and  to 
him  who  is  bounding  away  over  a  sunny  path  thickly 
flowered  with  the  hopes  of  spring,  the  grave  is  not 
so  to  many  who  have  lived  to  see  these  fair  flowers 
wither  away,  beneath  whose  slow  and  lonely  steps  the 
joys  of  other  days  lie  strewed — like  dead  leaves  in 
autumn.  Blessed  are  the  dead  that  die  in  the  Lord. 
There  is  no  sorrow  for  them  in  the  tomb,  or  beyond 
it.  Thus,  from  the  grassy  sod,  which  no  troubled 
bosom  heaves,  sorrow  plucks  blossoms  of  refreshing 
odours ;  thus,  weary  life  grows  strong  by  feeding  on  the 
thought  of  death ;  thus,  to  that  grave  which  remorse- 
lessly devours  the  happiness  of  the  ungodly,  Christian 
faith  can  apply  the  language  of  the  strong  man's  riddle, 
saj^ing  with  Samson,  when  he  found  the  lion  that  he 
had  rent  with  a  hive  of  honey  within  its  skeleton  ribs. 
Out  of  the  eater  came  forth  meat,  and  out  of  the  strong 
came  forth  sweetness. 

Hope  may  flatter  in  this  common  solace  of  worldly 
men,  that  the  longest  road  has  a  turning.  But,  turn 
or  not  turn,  God's  people  know  that  it  has  a  termi- 
nation ;  and  that  the  weary  journey,  with  its  heaviest 
trials,  shall  end  in  rest.  But  for  this,  thousands  had  sunk 
beneath  their  griefs.     And,  when  calamity  came  with 


THE  TRANSLATION.  101 

the  shock  of  an  earthquake,  and  reason  sat  stunned  and 
stupified  on  her  tottering  throne,  how  often  has  that 
blessed  prospect  restrained  man  from  turning  the  wish 
that  he  were  dead  into  a  daring  act ;  and  casting  life 
away  from  him  as  a  burden — one  greater  than  he  could 
bear. 

There  have  been  such  cases.  I  remember  in  one  a 
scene  never  to  be  forgotten.  It  surpassed  anything  it 
had  been  my  fortune  ever  to  witness  in  the  most  terrible 
shapes  of  mortal  agony,  and  anything  also  which  I  had 
ever  seen  of  the  power  of  Christian  endurance.  To  be 
hanged,  or  burned,  or  broken  on  the  wheel,  as  the 
martyrs  were — some  brief  hours  of  torture,  followed 
by  an  eternity  of  rest — how  the  sufferer  would  have 
welcomed  that  !  His  was  no  such  enviable,  happy 
fortune.  Death  struck  him — like  a  tree,  which  first 
withers  at  the  top — in  the  head ;  and,  in  excruciating 
sufferings  protracted  over  weary  years,  he  suffered  the 
pain  of  a  hundred  deaths.  His  endurance  was  heroic, 
and  never  failed  but  once.  Once,  for  pity's  sake, 
for  the  love  she  bore  him,  he  implored  his  wife  to 
tear  out  his  eyes — an  expression  of  impatience,  recalled 
as  soon  as  uttered ;  regretted  on  earth,  and  forgiven  in 
heaven.  Now,  never  as  by  that  bed,  where  I  have 
seen  him  turn,  and  twist,  and  writhe,  like  a  trodden 
worm,  have  I  felt  so  much  the  power  of  the  consola- 
tion of  which  I  speak.  Happy  was  it  that  religion 
was  not  then  to  seek ;  and  that,  beside  a  wife  struck 
dumb  with  grief,  and  little  children  who  stood  still  and 
saddened  by  the  sight  of  a  father's  agony,  I  could  bend 


102  THE  TRANSLATION. 

over  a  pillow,  wet  with  the  sweat  of  suffering,  and 
implore  him  to  remember  that  these  pains  were  not 
eternal,  and  that  the  Saviour  who  loved  him,  and  whom 
he  loved,  would,  ere  long,  come  to  take  him  to  himself. 
In  such  a  scene  what  comfort  in  the  words — 

"  Time  and  the  hour  runs  through  the  roughest  day." 

Nor  is  this  unscriptural  comfort.  The  transient 
nature  of  all  earthly  trials  is  one  important  ingre- 
dient of  that  cordial  with  which  Paul  comforts  sorrow- 
ing believers — Our  light  affliction,  which  is  but  for 
a  moment^  worketh  for  us  a  far  more  exceeding  and 
eternal  weight  of  glory.  Nay,  may  not  that  have 
been  poured  by  the  angel's  hand  into  the  very  cup 
of.  redeeming  sorrows  ?  When  our  Lord  was  alone  in 
the  garden,  and  death's  cold  shadow  had  begun  to  fall, 
and  the  gloom  of  the  approaching  storm  was  settling 
down  upon  his  soul,  an  angel  sped  from  heaven  to 
strengthen  him.  He  finds  him  prostrate  before  God. 
His  face  is  on  the  ground.  In  an  agony  of  supplication 
he  has  thrown  himself  at  his  Father's  feet ;  and,  shrink- 
ing from  the  pains  of  the  cross,  he  cries.  Father,  if  it 
be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from  me.  At  that  event- 
ful moment,  with  the  salvation  of  the  world  hung  on  its 
issues,  may  not  the  angel,  reverently  approaching  this 
awful  and  affecting  scene,  have  strengthened  our  Saviour, 
and  revived  his  fainting  spirit  with  this  comfort,  Lord 
of  Glory,  drink  ;  the  cup  is  bitter,  but  not  bottom- 
less? It  is  no  presumption  to  fancy  that,  pointing  to 
the  moon  as  she  rode  in  heaven,  he  had  reminded  our 


THE  TRANSLATION.  103 

Redeemer  that  ere  she  had  set  and  risen  again,  his  pangs 
should  all  be  over;  and  that  when  next  she  rose,  it 
should  be  to  shine  upon  an  empty  cup,  and  an  empty 
cross,  and  Roman  sentinels  keeping  watch  beside  his 
sleeping  form  and  peaceful  tomb.  Something  of  this, 
indeed,  our  Lord  seems  to  intimate  in  the  words  he 
addressed  to  the  traitor's  band — "  This  is  your  hour, 
and  the  power  of  darkness."  They  may  bind  these 
hands ;  but  they  shall  soon  be  free  to  rend  the  strongest 
barriers  of  the  tomb,  leaving  him  to  proclaim  liberty 
to  the  captives,  and  the  opening  of  the  prison  to  them 
that  are  bound.  With  the  foul  shame  of  thorns,  with 
spitting,  and  with  scornful  rejection,  they  may  hide  his 
glory;  but  it  shall  burst  forth,  like  the  sun  above 
his  dying  head,  from  the  shadow  of  a  strange  eclipse. 
Let  them  put  forth  their  utmost  power;  its  triumph 
shall  be  brief — shut  up  within  the  limits  of  a  passing 
hour. 

Does  not  the  same  idea  also  appear  in  the  w^ords 
which  our  Lord  addressed  to  the  traitor  at  the  supper 
table  ?  As  one  who,  though  shrinking  from  the 
sufferings  of  a  severe  operation,  feels  confident  of 
relief,  and  braces  up  his  spirit  to  endurance  by  setting 
permanent  ease  over  against  a  passing  pain,  Jesus 
bent  his  eye  on  Judas,  and  said,  "  That  thou  doest, 
do  quickly," — do  it,  and  have  done  with  it ;  I  know 
it  shall  not  last;  I  am  not  to  be  buried  but  bap- 
tized in  sufferings;  from  the  cross  where  it  shall  bow 
in  death — exposed  on  a  bloody  tree;  from  the  grave 
where  it  shall  lie  in  dust — pillowed  on  a  lonesome  bed, 


104  THE  TRANSLATION. 


shall  mine  head  be  lifted  up  above  mine  enemies 
round  about  me ;  so  that  thou  doest,  do  quickly ;  I 
foresee  an  end  of  sorrows,  and  long  to  enter  upon  my 
rest.  Now,  the  relief  which  death  brought  to  Christ, 
blessed  be  God,  it  brings  to  all  that  are  Christ's.  The 
passing  bell  rings  out  sin  with  all  its  sorrows,  and  rings 
in  eternity  with  all  its  joys.  And  the  very  same  event 
which  plunges  the  unbeliever  into  everlasting  perdition, 
ushers  the  believer  into  the  inheritance  of  the  saints 
in  light.  With  gladness  and  rejoicing  they  shall  be 
brought;  they  shall  enter  into  the  palace  of  the  king. 
Before  taking  up  the  subject  of  the  translation,  this  leads 
mo  to  remark — 

I.   That  in   delivering  his  people   from  the   power  of 
darkness,  Christ  saves  them  from  eternal  perdition. 

The  punishment  which  sin  deserves,  and  which  the 
impenitent  and  unbelieving  suffer,  is  a  very  awful  sub- 
ject— one  on  which  I  could  have  no  pleasure  in  dwell- 
ing. It  is  a  deeply  solemn  theme ;  a  terrible  mystery ; 
one  in  presence  of  which  we  stand  in  trembling  awe,  and 
can  only  say  with  David — Clouds  and  darkness  are  round 
about  him. 

It  is  a  painful  thing  to  see  the  dying  of  a  poor  dog, 
or  any  dumb  creature  suffer  ;  but  the  fate  of  the  impeni- 
tent, the  sorrows  that  admit  of  no  consolation,  the  misery 
that  has  no  end — these  form  a  subject  brimful  of  horrors  ; 
the  deepest,  darkest,  unfathomed  mystery  in  the  whole 
plan  of  the  divine  government.     Yet  what  affords  no 


THE  TRANSLATION.  .  105 

pleasure  may,  notwithstanding,  yield  profit;  and  that  even 
by  reason  of  the  pain  it  inflicts.  And  so,  in  the  hope  of 
such  a  blessed  result,  let  me  warn,  and  beseech,  and  im- 
plore careless  sinners  to  be  wise,  and  consider  this  solemn 
matter  in  the  day  of  their  merciful  visitation.  Better  fear 
that  punishment  than  feel  it ;  better  look  into  the  pit 
than  fall  into  it ;  better  than  fill  your  ears  with  syren 
songs  of  pleasure,  listen  to  this  warning  voice,  "  Behold, 
now  is  the  accepted  time ;  behold,  now  is  the  day  of 
salvation."  "  To-day,  if  ye  will  hear  his  voice,  harden 
not  your  hearts."  The  chains  which  bind  you  are 
yet  but  locked,  and  the  gospel  has  a  key  to  open  them. 
Reject  that  gospel,  and  what  is  now  but  locked  by  the 
hand  of  sin,  shall  be  ri vetted  by  the  hand  of  death — like 
the  fetters  on  the  limbs  of  him  who  leaves  the  bar  to 
suffer  that  most  awful  sentence,  the  doom  of  perpetual 
imprisonment.  "  As  the  tree  falls,  so  it  lies."  "  He  that 
is  filthy,  let  him  be  filthy  still." 

People  talk  about  the  mercy  of  God  in  a  way  for 
which  they  have  no  warrant  in  his  word ;  and,  ignoring 
his  holiness,  and  justice,  and  truth,  they  lay  this  and 
the  other  vain  hope  as  a  flattering  unction  to  their  souls. 
Thinking  light  of  sin,  seeing  no  great  harm  in  it,  they 
judge  God  by  themselves.  "  Thou  thoughtest  that  I 
was  altogether  such  an  one  as  thyself,"  accounts  for  the 
manner  in  which  many  explain  away  the  awful  revela- 
tions of  Scripture  about  future  punishment,  and  in  the 
face  of  such  terrible  words  as  these,  "  Depart  from  me. 
ye  cursed,  into  everlasting  fire,  prepared  for  the  devil 
and   his  angels,"  give  such  a  ready  ear  to  the  devil's 


106  THE  TRANSLATION. 


old  falsehood,  Thou  shalt  not  surely  die.  The  fire, 
they  allege,  and  are  sure,  is  a  mere  symbol.  Well,  just 
look  by  the  light  of  that  symbol  at  the  condition  of  the 
lost.  Fire !  What  does  that  mean  ?  Take  it  as  a 
symbol,  grant  that  it  is  but  a  figure  of  speech,  still  it 
has  a  terrible  meaning,  as  will  be  manifest,  if  we  con- 
sider the  nature  and  characteristic  features  of  that  ele- 
ment.    Let  us  see. 

According  to  the  imperfect  science  of  the  world's 
early  ages,  there  were  four  elements,  of  which  ancient 
philosophers  held  that  all  things  else  were  compounded. 
These  were  fire,  air,  earth,  and  water ;  and  from  the 
other  three,  the  first  is  strikingly  distinguished  by  this 
peculiar  and  well-marked  feature,  that  it  is  destructive 
of  all  life.  Let  us  examine  this  matter  somewhat  in 
detail. 

1.  The  element  of  earth  is  associated  with  life. 
Prolific  mother,  from  whose  womb  we  come,  and  to 
whose  bosom  we  return,  she  is  pregnant  with  life,  an 
exhaustless  storehouse  of  its  germs.  Raise  the  soil,  for 
example,  from  the  bottom  of  deepest  well  or  darkest 
mine.  And  as  divine  truths,  lodged  in  the  heart  by  a 
mother  in  early  childhood,  though  they  have  lain  long 
dormant,  spring  up  into  conversion  so  soon  as  God's 
time  comes  and  the  Spirit  descends,  so  seeds,  that  have 
lain  in  the  soil  for  a  thousand  years,  whenever  they  are 
exposed  to  the  quickening  influences  of  heat,  and  light, 
and  air,  and  moisture,  awake  from  their  long  sleep,  and 
rise  up  into  forms  of  grace  and  beauty.     Nowhere  but 


THE.  TRANSLATION.  107 


within  the  narrow  walls  of  the  churchyard — with  its 
earth  to  earth,  ashes  to  ashes,  dust  to  dust — are  death 
and  the  dust  associated.  Even  there  how  does  life, 
contending  for  the  mastery  of  this  world,  intrude  upon 
death's  silent  domains,  and  both  in  the  grass  that  waves 
above,  and  the  foul  worms  that  feed  below,  claim  the 
earth  as  her  owja !  This  earth  is  far  less  the  tomb 
than  a  great  prolific  womb  of  life.  Of  its  matter  life 
builds  her  shrines ;  beneath  its  surface  myriads  of  creep- 
ing things  have  their  highways  and  homes  ;  while  its 
soil  yields  bountiful  support  to  the  forests,  and  flowers, 
and  grasses,  that  clothe  its  naked  form  in  gayest  robes 
of  Hfe  and  beauty. 

2.  Air,  too,  is  an  element  associated  with  life. 
Invisible  substance,  it  is  as  much  our  food  as  corn  or 
flesh.  Symbol  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  it  feeds  the  vital 
flame,  and  is  essential  to  the  existence  of  all  plants  and 
animals,  whether  their  home  be  the  land  or  water,  the 
ocean  or  its  shores.  They  live  by  breathing  it,  whether 
it  be  extracted  from  the  waters  by  their  'inhabitants,  or 
directly  from  the  atmosphere  by  the  plants  and  animals 
that  dwell  on  the  dry  land.  Ceasing  to  breathe  it,  they 
die.  With  that  groan,  or  gasp,  or  long-drawn  sigh, 
man  expires.  His  breath  goeth  forth,  he  returneth  to 
his  earth ;  in  that  very  day  his  thoughts  perish.  And 
as  life  exists  on  air,  it  exists  in  it ;  nor  ever  presents 
itself  in  a  fuller,  happier  aspect,  than  at  the  serene  close, 
for  instance,  of  a  summer  day.  The  air  is  filled  with 
the  music  of  a  thousand  choristers ;  creation's  evening 


108  THE  TRANSLATION. 


hj^mn,  sung  by  many  voices,  and  in  many  notes,  goes 
up  to  the  ear  of  God ;  and,  while  the  lark  supplies  music 
from  the  ringing  heavens,  nature  holds  innocent  revels 
below ;  and  happy  insects,  by  sparkling  stream,  or  the 
sedgy  borders  of  the  placid  lake,  keep  up  their  mazy 
merry  dances,  till  God  puts  out  the  lights,  and,  satiated 
with  enjoyment,  they  retire  to  rest,  wrapped  round  in 
the  curtains  of  the  night.  Figure  of  the  truth  that  in 
God  we  live,  and  move,  and  have  our  being,  our  world 
itself,  with  all  that  lives  on  it,  is  a  sphere  that  floats, 
buoyant  and  balanced,  in  an  ocean  of  air. 

3.  Water,  too,  is  an  element  associated  with  life. 
Fit  emblem  of  saving  mercies,  so  indispensable  is  water 
to  the  continued  existence  of  life,  that  unless  it  be  fur- 
nished by  some  source  or  other,  all  plants  and  animals 
must  speedily  die.  Then  how  does  this  element,  which 
covers  more  than  two-thirds  of  the  surface  of  our  globe, 
teem  with  life !  He  has  not  seen  one  of  the  wonders 
of  creation,  who  has  not  seen  a  drop  of  water  changed, 
by  the  microscope,  into  a  little  world  full  of  living, 
active,  perfect,  creatures,  over  whom  a  passing  bird 
throws  the  shadow  of  an  eclipse,  and  whose  brief  life  of 
an  hour  or  day  seems  to  them  as  long  as  to  us  a  century 
of  years.  Imagination  attempts  in  vain  to  form  some 
conception  of  the  myriads  that,  all  creatures  of  God's 
care,  inhabit  the  living  waters — the  rushing  stream, 
the  mountain  lake,  the  shallow  shore,  the  profound 
depths  of  ocean — from  the  minutest  insect  which  finds  a 
home  in  some  tiny  pool,  or  its  world  on  the  leaf  of  the 


THE  TRANSLATION.  109 


swaying  sea-weed,  to  leviathan,  around  whose  mighty- 
bulk,  whether  in  play  or  rage,  the  deep  grows  hoary, 
and  foams  like  a  boiling  pot.  How  soon  we  abandon 
the  attempt,  and,  dropping  the  wings  of  fancy,  fall  on 
our  knees  before  the  throne  to  say,  0  Lord,  how 
manifold  are  thy  works!  in  wisdom  hast  thou  made 
them  all. 

Mark,  now,  the  broad  and  outstanding  difference 
between  these  elements  and  fire.  Earth  and  life,  air 
and  life,  water  and  life,  are  not,  as  we  have  seen,  neces- 
sarily antagonistic ;  but  fire  and  life  are.  Unless  under 
such  miraculous  circumstances  as  those  in  which  the  three 
Hebrew  children  walked  unhurt  in  the  furnace,  or  the 
mountain  bush,  as  if  bathed  in  dew,  flowered  amid  the 
flames,  life  cannot  exist  in  fire  under  any  shape  or  form. 
No  creature  feeds,  or  breeds,  or  breathes  in  flames.  What 
the  winds  fan,  and  the  soil  nourishes,  and  the  dews  re- 
fresh, fire  kills.  It  scorches  whatever  it  touches,  and  what- 
ever breathes  it,  dies.  Turning  the  stateliest  tree,  and 
sweetest  flowers,  and  loveliest  form  of  the  daughters  of 
Eve,  into  a  heap  of  ashes,  or  a  coal-black  cinder,  fire  is 
the  tomb  of  beauty,  and  the  sepulchre  of  all  life  ;  the 
only  region  and  realm  within  which  death  reigns,  with 
none  to  dispute  his  sway.  And  thus  the  characteristic 
feature  of  this  element — beside  the  pain  it  inflicts — is  the 
destruction  and  death  it  works. 

Suppose,  then,  that  the  fire  that  is  never  quenched  is 
but  a  painted  flame — grant  that  it  is  nothing  but  a  symbol 
or  figure  of  the  punishment  which  awaits  the  impenitent 
and  unbelieving,  in  what  respects  have  they,  who  have 


110  THE  TRANSLATION. 


persuaded  themselves  of  that,  improved  their  prospects  ? 
It  is,  "  as  if  a  man  did  flee  from  a  lion,  and  a  bear 
met  him  ;  or  went  into  the  house,  and  leaned  his  hand  on 
the  wall,  and  a  serpent  bit  him."  Although  the  language 
of  Scripture  were  figurative,  yet  expressing,  as  it  does, 
the  utter  consumption  and  death  of  all  hope  and  happi- 
ness, it  is  not  less  madness  for  any  one  to  reject  the 
Saviour,  and  for  the  enjoyment  of  a  passing  pleasure  to 
brave  so  terrible  a  doom.  Endless  misery — the  worm 
that  never  dieth,  and  the  fire  that  is  never  quenched — 
in  whatever  shape  it  comes,  is  an  awful  thought.  We  can- 
not think  of  it  without  shuddering.  Oh,  why  should  any 
hear  of  it  without  fleeing  instantly  to  Jesus ;  for  who 
among  us  shall  dwell  with  the  devouring  fire?  who  among 
us  shall  dwell  with  everlasting  burning  ?  I  do  not 
undertake  to  defend  God's  procedure  in  this  matter. 
He  will  defend  it  himself,  and  one  day  justify  his  ways, 
in  the  judgment  even  of  those  whom  he  condemns. 
They  shall  not  have  the  miserable  consolation  of  com- 
plaining that  they  have  been  hardly  and  unjustly  dealt 
with.  The  sentence  that  condemns  them  shall  find  an 
awful  echo  in  their  own  consciences.  How  they  shall 
blame  themselves,  and  regret  their  life,  and  curse  their 
folly — turning  their  stings  against  their  own  bosoms,  as 
the  scorpion,  maddened  with  pain,  is  said  to  do,  when 
surrounded  by  a  circle  of  fire ! 

Before  we  leave  this  subject,  let  us  all  join 
in  thanksgiving,  both  saints  and  sinners.  Let  the 
people  praise  thee,  0  God;  let  all  the  people  praise 
thee.       Fascinated,    bewitched    by    pleasure,    do    you 


THE  TRANSLATION.  Ill 

still  linger  beside  the  pit,  notwithstanding,  perhaps, 
that  its  flames  are  rising  fearfully  lurid  against  the 
darkening  skies  of  a  fast-descending  night  ?  Be  thank- 
ful that  you  are  not  in  the  pit ;  and  falling  on  your 
knees  by  its  horrible  brink,  let  its  miserable  captives, 
who  envy  you  your  time  of  prayer,  hear  your  cry  for 
mercy,  and  that  that  gracious  long-suffering  God,  who 
has  preserved  you  to  this  day  as  a  monument  of  his 
sparing,  would  now  make  you  a  monument  of  his  saving 
mercy.  And  how  should  saints  praise  him !  How 
should  they  praise  him,  who  have  exchanged  the  hor- 
rible fear  of  hell  for  a  holy  happy  fear  of  God,  and — 
in  a  good  hope  through  grace,  that  they  have  been 
delivered  from  the  power  of  darkness,  and  translated  into 
the  kingdom  of  his  dear  Son— enjoy  a  peace  that  passeth 
understanding.  "  Blessed  is  he  whose  transgression  is 
forgiven,  whose  sin  is  covered."  Blessed,  more  blessed 
than  if  he  had  the  wealth  of  Croesus,  the  poorest,  hum- 
blest, weakest  child  of  God,  who  can  say  with  David — 
He  brought  me  up  also  out  of  an  horrible  pit,  out  of 
the  miry  clay,  and  set  my  feet  upon  a  rock,  and  esta- 
blished my  goings.  It  is  beautiful  to  see  a  bird  spring 
from  its  grassy  bed,  mounting  up  on  strong  wing  into 
a  morning  sky  of  amber,  and  ruby,  and  gold,  and 
sapphire,  and  to  hear  her,  as  she  climbs  the  heavens, 
sing  out  the  joy  which  God  has  poured  into  her  little 
heart  in  a  thriUing  gush  of  music  ;  but,  oh,  if  God's 
people  through  more  purity  enjoyed  more  peace  of  heart, 
were  they  as  holy,  and  therefore  as  happy  as  they  might 
be,  how  would  angels  stay  their  flight,  and  pause  upon 


112  THE  TRANSLATION. 

the  wing  to  watch  the  rise,  and  Usten  to  the  song  of 
him  who,  as  he  rises,  sings — My  soul  is  escaped  as  a 
bird  out  of  the  snare  of  the  fowler :  the  snare  is  broken, 
and  w^e  are  escaped.  "  Happy  is  that  people,  that  is 
in  such  a  case  :  yea,  happy  is  that  people,  whose  God 
is  the  Lord." 

II.  Consider  how  we  are  brought  into  this  kingdom. 

Translation  is  the  expression  used  to  describe  the 
method.  There  is  a  difference  between  being  trans- 
formed and  being  translated ;  in  so  far  as  the  first 
describes  a  change  of  character,  while  the  second 
describes  a  change  of  state.  These  changes  are  coin- 
cident— they  take  place  at  the  same  time ;  but  the 
transformation  is  not  completed,  nor  are  saints  made 
perfect  in  holiness,  until  the  period  arrive  for  a  second 
translation.  Then  those  who  were  translated  at  con- 
version into  a  state  of  grace,  are  translated  at  death  into 
a  state  of  glory.  The  transformation  of  the  soul  into 
the  image  of  God,  and  of  God's  dear  Son,  begins  at  the 
first  translation,  and  is  finished  at  the  second.  And  it 
is  with  man  as  with  a  rude  block  of  marble.  Raised 
from  its  dark  low  quarry-bed,  it  is,  in  the  first  instance, 
removed  to  the  sculptor's  studio.  There  the  shapeless 
masH  gradually  assumes,  under  his  chisel,  the  features 
and  form  of  humanity — blow  after  blow,  touch  after 
touch  is  given,  till  the  marble  grows  into  a  triumph  of 
his  genius,  and  seems  instinct  with  life.  And,  now  a 
perfect  image,  it  is  once  more  removed,  and  leaves  his 


THE  TRANSLATION.  113 

hand  to  become  on  its  pedestal  the  attractive  ornament 
of  some  hall  or  palace. 

Now,  it  is  the  change  of  state  corresponding  to  the 
removal  of  the  block  from  the  quarry,  that  we  have  here 
to  do  with.  And  let  us  take  care  that  the  word  em- 
ployed to  describe  the  change  from  nature  to  grace 
leads  to  no  mistake.  It  were  a  great  mistake  to  sup- 
pose that  God  only  is  active  while  man  remains  passive 
in  this  work.  You  may,  indeed,  translate  a  man 
from  one  earthly  kingdom  to  another,  you  may  carry 
him,  for  instance,  across  the  channel  which  parts  Great 
Britain  from  France,  while  his  senses  and  faculties 
are  steeped  in  slumber.  The  traveller  falls  asleep 
in  one  country  to  awake  in  another ;  and,  conveyed 
smoothly  along  the  level  road  or  over  an  arm  of  the  sea, 
— rocked,  it  may  be,  into  deeper  slumber  by  the  gentle 
motion — he  opens  his  eyes,  amid  a  Babel  of  tongues, 
on  the  strange  costumes,  and  faces,  and  scenery  of  a 
foreign  land. 

Not  only  so  ;  but,  greater  and  most  solemn  change, 
a  man  may  be  translated  from  this  world  into  the  next 
in  a  state  of  entire  unconsciousness.  As  I  have  seen  a 
mother  approach  the  cradle  and  gently  lift  up  the 
sleeping  babe  to  take  it  to  her  own  bed  and  bosom,  so, 
muffled  in  the  cloud  of  night,  death  has  stolen  on  the 
sleeper,  and,  moving  with  noiseless  step  across  the  floor, 
has  borne  him  off  so  gently,  that,  on  awaking,  he 
was  in  heaven,  and  opened  his  eyes  on  the  glories 
of  the  upper  sanctuary;  and  when  his  children, 
wondering  what  detains  their  father  from  the  morning 

F  2 


114  THE  TRANSLATION. 


meal,  enter  his  chamber,  they  find  the  spirit  fled,  and, 
as  one  who  had  done  his  work,  his  lifeless  form  resting 
on  the  couch  in  a  posture  of  calm  repose.  Such  sudden 
transition  from  time  into  eternity  brings  an  awful 
arrestment  to  a  life  of  sin !  The  sinner  is  like  some 
wretched  criminal,  who  has  been  tracked  to  his  hiding- 
place.  Lying  asleep  in  the  arms  of  guilt,  he  is  roused 
by  rough  hands,  loud  voices,  and  the  flash  of  lanterns ; 
starting  up,  he  stares  wildly  round ;  and  how  pale  he 
turns  to  see  his  bed  beset,  and  door  and  window  guarded 
by  the  stern  oflBcers  of  justice — they  are  come  to  drag 
him  to  prison.  But  to  die  and  not  know  it,  not  even 
to  taste  death,  to  be  spared  the  bitter  cup,  to  be 
exempt  from  the  mortal  struggle,  to  be  borne  across 
the  deep  cold  waters  asleep  in  Jesus'  arms,  to  be 
wakened  from  nature's  unconscious  slumbers  by  strains 
of  heavenly  music,  and  the  bright  blaze  of  glory,  what 
a  happy  close  of  a  holy  life  ! 

It  is  not  in  this  quiet,  gentle,  placid  way,  that  sin- 
ners are  translated  out  of  darkness  into  the  kingdom  of 
God's  dear  Son;  far  otherwise.  And  in  illustration  of 
that,  I  now  remark — 

1.  That  this  translation  is  attended  by  sufiering 
and  self-denial. 

Killed  by  a  bullet,  prostrated  by  a  blow,  deprived 
at  once  of  consciousness  and  of  existence  by  means  of 
an  opiate  or  some  other  narcotic  poison,  man  may 
die  to  natural  Ufe  quite  unconsciously.  But  thus  he 
never  dies  to  sin.  Best  of  all  deaths  !  yet  it  is  attended 
by  a  painful,  and  often  a  protracted   struggle ;  during 


THE  TRANSLATION.  115 


which  he  is  as   sensible   of   pain  as  the  victim  of    a 
cross,  who,  when  the  nails  have  crashed  through  nerve, 
and  flesh,  and  bone,  hangs  convulsed  and  quivering  on 
its  extended  arms.     Hence  these  striking  metaphors : 
"  They  that  are  Christ's  have  crucified  the  flesh  with 
the  affections  and  lusts  ;"  "  But  God  forbid  that  I  should 
glory,  save  in  the  cross  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  by 
whom  the  world  is  crucified  unto  me,  and  I  unto  the 
world."     I  would  not    deter  you  from   the   cross,   or 
from  resolving  now,  by  the  grace  of  God,   and   aids 
of  the  Holy  Spirit,  to  take  it  up,  and  deny  yourselves 
daily,    and    follow  Jesus.     On  the  contrary,  I  say,  the 
crown  is  worthy  of  the  cross.       I  have  no  doubt  that 
there  is  far  more  pain  suffered  in  going  to  hell  than 
to   heaven.     And,  although  there  were  not,  how  will 
one  hour  of  glory  recompense  you  for  all  the  suffer- 
ings and    sacrifices  of   earth?     I  only  wish  to  dissi- 
pate the  delusion  under  which  some   apparently  live, 
and,  living,  certainly  perish,  that  indolence,  and  ease, 
and  self-indulgence  may  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God. 
They  think,  therefore,  that  they  have  no  occasion  to  be 
anxious  about  their  souls ;  and  rest  satisfied  that  it  may 
be,  and  is  all  right  with   them,  though  they  are   not 
conscious  of  having  ever  felt  any  serious  alarm,  having 
made  any  great  exertion,  or  suffered,  indeed,  any  self- 
denying  pains  whatever. 

Be  assured  that,  as  it  is  among  pangs  and  birth- 
struggles  that  a  man  is  born  the  first  time,  it  is  in 
Borrow  and  pain  that  he  is  born  again.  "  Verily,  verily, 
I  say  unto  you,  that  ye  shall  weep  and  lament,  but 


116  THE  TRANSLATION. 

the  world  shall  rejoice ;  and  ye  shall  be  sorrowful,  but 
your  sorrow  shall  be  turned  into  joy.  A  woman,  when 
she  is  in  travail,  hath  sorrow,  because  her  hour  is  come ; 
but  as  soon  as  she  is  delivered  of  the  child,  she  remem- 
bereth  no  more  the  anguish,  for  joy  that  a  man  is  born 
into  the  world."  May  it  not  be  in  part  with  refe- 
rence to  this,  that  John,  speaking  of  Jesus,  said,  He 
that  cometh  after  me  is  mightier  than  I — he  shall  bap- 
tize you  with  the  Holy  Ghost  and  with  fire  ?  To  be 
baptized  with  fire  is  another  thing  from  being  baptized 
with  water.  How  often  has  the  water  fallen  from  our 
hand  on  the  calm  brow  of  a  sleeping  infant,  which, 
held  up  in  a  father's  arms,  was  returned  to  a  mother's 
bosom  perfectly  unconscious  of  its  baptism — translated 
into  the  visible  church  of  Christ  in  a  state  of  profound 
repose.  But  a  fiery  baptism !  that  which  symbolises  the 
descent  of  the  Spirit  in  conversion,  impHes  pain — such 
convictions  of  sin  and  dread  of  hell,  such  self-reproach, 
and  deep  remorse,  as  have  often  risen  to  agony,  and 
sometimes  driven  man  to  the  verge  of  madness.  Fire 
burns  the  flesh,  penetrates  to  the  bone,  and  dries 
up  the  very  marrow.  Can  a  man  take  fire  into  his 
bosom,  and  his  clothes  not  be  burned?  If  not,  how 
could  a  soul  receive  the  fiery,  baptism  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  and  be  unconscious  of  it  ?  Ah,  fancy  not  that 
it  is  to  sinners  only  that  our  God  is  a  consuming  fire. 
He  is  a  consuming  fire,  not  indeed  to  his  people's 
souls,  but  to  his  people's  sins.  The  unholy  pleasures 
and  habits  that  bind  those  whom  he  has  chosen  for  him- 
self out  of  a  world  that  lieth  in  wickedness,  he  will  burn. 


THE  TRANSLATION.  117 


Nor  are  these  bonds  burned  off  them  in  a  way  as 
painless  as  happened  to  the  three  Hebrews.  They, 
whom  Nebuchadnezzar  cast  bound  into  the  fiery  furnace, 
were  suffering  for  God,  not  for  sin.  And  preserved  by 
Christ's  presence,  like  his  people  in  corresponding  trials, 
they  walked  right  pleasantly  on  burning  coals,  and 
found  the  flames  as  fresh  as  the  breath  of  a  balmy 
morning.  If  you  have  never  felt  pain,  be  assured  that 
you  have  never  parted  with  sin.  Nothing  short  of 
burning  out  will  remove  it.  Yet,  painful  as  it  may  be, 
throw  open  your  bosom  for  this  baptism  of  fire  !  What- 
ever wounds  it  inflicts,  they  shall  be  healed.  There  is 
balm  in  Gilead,  and  a  physician  there. 

2.  In  this  translation  both  God  and  man  are  active. 
When  the  hour  of  our  Lord's  ascension  had  come, 
he  rose  from  Olivet  neither  on  angel's  wings,  nor  in  the 
prophet's  fiery  chariot.  He  put  forth  no  effort.  His 
body,  as  if  belonging  to  another  sphere,  floated  buoyant, 
upward  through  the  air,  until,  as  he  bent  over  his  dis- 
ciples in  the  attitude*  of  blessing,  a  cloud  received  him 
out  of  their  sight.  But  no  man  rises  in  this  glorious 
manner  from  a  state  of  nature  into  one  of  grace  ;  or  leaves 
the  horrible  pit,  for  the  light,  and  love,  and  liberty  of 
a  son  of  God.  There  is  help  afforded  on  God's  part ; 
but  there  is  also  an  effort  required  on  ours.  We  must 
climb  the  ladder  which  divine  love  lets  down. 

The  soul  is  not,  as  some  seem  to  think,  a  piece  of 
softened  wax,  receiving  the  image  of  God  as  that  does 
the  impress  of  a  seal.  We  receive  salvation  ;  still,  we 
must  put  forth  our  hand  for  it,  as  the  starving  for  a  loaf 


118  THE  TKANSLATION. 


of  bread ;  as  he  who  dies  of  thirst  for  a  cup  of  water  ; 
as  a  drowning  man,  who  eagerly  eyes  and  rapidly 
seizes  the  falling  rope — clinging  to  it  with  a  grasp 
that  neither  his  weight  nor  the  waves  can  loose. 

'*  Between  us  and  you,"  said  Abraham  to  the  rich 
man,  "  there  is  a  great  gulf  jBxed ;  so  that  they  which 
would  pass  from  hence  to  you  cannot ;  neither  can  they 
pass  to  us  that  would  come  from  thence."  I  know  that 
a  gulf  as  impassable  and  profound  divides  the  state  of 
sin  from  the  state  of  grace ;  and  that  no  quantity  nor 
quality  of  good  works  that  we  may  attempt  to  throw 
in,  can  form  a  passage  for  our  guilty  feet.  Rubbish 
at  the  best !  how  are  they  lost  in  its  unfathomed  depths ! 
lost  like  the  stones  which  travellers  in  Iceland  fling  into 
those  black,  yawning,  volcanic  chasms,  which  descend 
so  deep  into  the  fiery  bowels  of  that  burning  land,  that 
no  line  can  measure,  and  time  never  fills  them.  Yet, 
blessed  be  Christ's  name!  the  great  gulf  has  been 
bridged.  Redemption,  through  his  blood  and  merits, 
spans  the  yawning  chasm.  An  open  way  invites  your 
feet.  And  would  to  God  we  saw  men  seizing  that 
opening  and  opportunity  of  escape,  as  a  retreatiug 
army  makes  for  the  bridge  when  bayonets  are  bristling 
on  the  heights,  and  the  shot  is  plunging  amid  its  dis- 
ordered ranks,  and  clouds  of  cavalry  are  cutting  down 
the  stragglers  I  Oh,  what  diligence,  what  activity,  what 
energy,  what  shouts  and  cries  for  help  in  such  a  crisis, 
such  a  terrific  scene  I  They  cast  away  their  baggage ; 
everything  is  sacrificed  for  life.  Husbands  dragging  on 
their  wives,  fathers  carrying  helpless  children,  brother 


THE  TRANSLATION.  119 


raising  up  wounded  brother,  the  cry  of  all  is  for  the 
bridge,  the  bridge  !  And  as  the  iron  hail  rattles  among 
their  flying  squadrons,  save  where  the  rear-guard  faces 
round  to  the  enemy  and  gallantly  covers  the  retreat, 
every  man  forces  on  his  way ;  until,  the  living  wave 
surging  on  it,  the  bridge  is  choked  with  eager  fugitives. 
Who  thinks  of  sitting  down  there,  and  waiting  a  more 
convenient  season,  waiting  till  the  press  and  crowd  is 
over  ?  ■  They  may  envy  the  bird  that,  frightened  from 
her  brood,  darts  through  the  sulphureous  cloud,  and 
wings  her  rapid  way  high  over  the  swollen  flood,  but 
who  sits  down  there  in  the  idle  hope  that  God  will  send 
some  eagle  from  her  rocky  nest,  some  angel  from  the 
skies,  to  bear  the  loiterer  across,  and  save  him  all  effort 
of  his  own  ?  No  man.  Every  man  is  on  his  feet. 
He  throws  himself  into  the  crowd ;  seizes  every  opening 
in  the  dense,  desperate,  maddened  throng,  to  get  forward; 
nor  relaxes  the  strain  of  his  utmost  efforts,  till  he  stand 
in  safety  on  the  other  side — blessing  the  man  that  bridged 
the  stream. 

Is  not  God,  it  may  be  said,  sovereign  and  omnipo- 
tent? As  such,  does  he  not  sometimes  save  those  who 
are  no.t  seeking  to  be  saved  ?  and  even  send  them  back 
from  church  to  pray  who  came  to  scoff  ?  True.  He 
may  set  aside  the  ordinary  laws  of  grace,  as  he  set  aside 
the  ordinary  laws  of  nature,  when  at  his  bidding  iron 
swam,  and  flames  were  cool,  and  the  flinty  rock  yielded 
drink,  and  the  blue  skies  gave  not  dews  but  corn,  and 
unstable  water  stood  up  in  solid  walls  like  adamant. 
But  be  it  ever  remembered,  that  in  the  ordinary  course 


120  THE  TRANSLATION. 


of  his  providence,  God  works  in  grace  as  in  nature. 
To  use  a  common  but  expressive  adage,  God  helps 
the  man  who  helps  himself.  Even  the  young  bird 
chips  its  own  shell,  and  I  have  heard  its  voice  in  a 
feeble  cry  for  liberty  before  it  had  burst  its  prison 
walls;  and  what  violent  exertions  have  I  seen  an 
insect — about  to  enter  on  a  new  existence — make  to 
shuffle  off  its  worm  case,  and  come  forth  in  resplen- 
dent beauty  to  spend  happy  days  in  sunbeams,  and 
sleep  away  the  short  summer  nights  in  the  soft  bosom  of 
a  flower.  Instinct  teaches  the  lowest  of  God's  creatures 
to  exert  themselves  ;  and  providence  teaches  man,  in  the 
common  affairs  of  life,  to  exert  himself.  The  blessing 
is  on  the  busy.  He  reaps  a  harvest  who  tills  his  field  ; 
and  sickles  flash,  and  sheaves  stand  thick  where  the 
ploughs  have  gone.  The  history  even  of  Christ's  miracles 
is  pregnant  with  the  same  lesson.  Who  were  the  lame 
he  healed,  but  those  who  painfully  crawled  to  him  on 
their  knees,  or  crept  to  him  on  crutches,  or  got  kind 
friends  to  bear  them  on  beds  and  break  through  house- 
roofs,  that  they  might  get  near  the  Saviour?  Who 
were  the  blind  whose  eyes  he  opened,  but  those  whose 
hearts  leaped  within  them,  and  who  leaped  to  their  feet 
when,  by  the  hum  and  rush  of  the  crowd,  they  knew 
that  the  Saviour  was  passing  ?  Be  these  your  pattern. 
Allow  no  difficulties  about  this  or  that  doctrine  to  hinder 
you  from  giving  immediate  attention  and  earnest  obe- 
dience to  these  plain  commandments,  Pray  without 
ceasing,  Labour  for  the  bread  that  never  perisheth, 
Give  all   diligence  to  make  your  calling  and  election 


THE  TRANSLATION.  121 

sure,  Take  diligent  heed  to  do  the  commandment  and 
the  law,  to  love  the  Lord  your  God,  and  to  walk  in 
all  his  ways,  and  to  keep  his  commandments,  and  to 
cleave  unto  him,  and  to  serve  him  with  all  your  heart 
and  with  all  your  soul. 

Why  is  it  that  many,  that  perhaps  you,  are  not 
saved  ?  Will  the  Lord  cast  off  for  ever ;  and  will  he 
be  favourable  no  more?  Is  his  mercy  clean  gone  for 
ever  ?  doth  his  promise  fail  for  evermore  ?  Hath  God 
forgotten  to  be  gracious  ?  hath  he  in  anger  shut  up  his 
tender  mercies?  Is  heaven  full?  Is  there  no  room 
for  more  ?  Or,  has  the  blood  of  Christ  lost  its  efficacy, 
or  God  his  pity?  No.  It  is  miserable  to  see  how 
carefully  gold  and  jewels  are  preserved,  while  souls  are 
thrown  away,  as  of  no  value.  Men  are  not  saved; 
but  why  ?  They  will  give  themselves  no  trouble — take 
no  pains  to  be  saved.  This  change  is  indeed  a  birth ; 
but  remember  that  it  is  not  like  the  birth  of  the  body 
— the  pangs  there  are  all  the  mother's.  This  change  is 
a  translation,  but  forget  not  that  it  is  not  such  as 
Elijah's,  when  that  deathless  man  had  only  to  step 
into  the  chariot,  and  angels  shook  the  reins,  and  horses 
of  fire  whirled  him  at  his  ease  through  the  skies  to 
heaven.  I  am  persuaded  that  there  would  be  many 
more  saved,  if  fewer  of  us  abused  the  doctrines  of  man's 
depravity,  and  God's  free,  sovereign,  saving  grace.  It 
is  the  gospel,  that  Without  shedding  of  blood  there  is 
no  remission  ;  it  is  the  gospel,  that  Except  a  man  be 
born  again,  he  cannot  see  the  kingdom  of  God ;  it  is 
the  gospel,  that  Not  by  works  of  righteousness  which 


122  THE  TRANSLATION. 

we  have  done,  but  according  to  his  mercy  he  saved  us, 
by  the  washing  of  regeneration,  and  renewing  of  the 
Holy  Ghost ;  but  remember,  I  pray  you,  that,  accord- 
ing to  the  same  gospel,  those  who  receive  are  they  who 
ask,  and  those  who  find  are  they  who  seek.  It  is  to 
the  knocking  hand  that  the  door  is  opened. 


REDEMPTION. 

lu  whom  we  have  redemption  through  his  blood,  even  the  forgiveneaa 
of  sins. — C0L0331ANS  i.  14. 

/^NE  who  had  been  a  great  traveller,  who  had  visited 
all  the  capitals  of  Europe,  who  had  studied  the 
most  famous  wonders  of  ancient  art,  and,  no  stranger  to 
nature's  grandest  scenery  in  the  Old  World,  had  filled 
his  ear  with  the  roar,  and  his  eye  with  the  foaming 
cataract  of  Niagara,  once  declared,  in  my  hearing,  that 
near  by  the  latter  and  most  glorious  spectacle  he  had  seen 
the  finest  sight  he  ever  saw.  He  was  crossing  from 
the  American  to  the  Canadian  shore  ;  and  the  same 
boat  was  carrying  over  a  fugitive  slave.  The  slave 
had  burst  his  chain,  and  fled.  Guided  northwards  by 
the  pole-star,  he  had  threaded  his  way  through  tangled 
forests  and  the  poisonous  swamp — outstripping  the  blood- 
hounds that  bayed  behind  him,  and  followed  long  upon 
his  track.  Now  about  to  realise  his  long-cherished  and 
fondest  hopes,  to  gratify  his  burning  thirst  for  liberty, 
the  swarthy  negro  stood  in  the  bow  of  the  boat,  his 
large  black  eyes  intently  fixed  upon  the  shore.  She 
nears  it.  But  ere  her  keel  has  grated  on  the  strand, 
impatient  to  be  free,  he  gathers  up  all  his  strength, 


124  KEDEMPTION. 


bends  for  the  spring,  and,  vaulting  into  the  air,  by  one 
mighty  bound,  one  glorious  leap  for  liberty,  he  reaches 
the  shore,  and  stands  erect  upon  its  bank — a  free  man. 

The  liberty  for  which  that  slave  longed,  and  laboured, 
and  braved  so  much,  is  perhaps  the  sweetest  earthly 
cup  man  drinks.  It  has,  indeed,  been  often  said,  that 
health  is  the  greatest  earthly  blessing.  It  is  a  precious 
boon.  How  did  the  woman  of  the  Gospels  spend  all 
she  had  in  search  of  it ;  and  how  would  thousands,  now 
languishing  on  beds  of  sickness,  and  sinking  into  the 
grave  under  an  incurable  malady,  buy  this  possession  at 
as  great  a  price  ?  Without  health,  what  is  money  ? 
what,  luxury  ?  what,  rank  and  sounding  titles  ?  what  a 
crown,  if  it  sit  heavy  on  throbbing  brows  and  an  aching 
head?  Yonder  poor  and  humble  cottager,  browned  by 
the  sun,  with  ruddy  health  glowing  on  his  unshaven 
cheek,  who,  seated  at  his  simple  board,  uncovers  his 
head  to  wipe  the  sweat  of  labour  from  his  brow,  or  to 
bless  the  God  who  feeds  him  and  his  little  ones,  might 
be  an  object  of  envy  to  many.  In  vain  they  court  coy 
sleep  on  beds  of  down,  and  try  to  whet  a  failing  appe- 
tite by  costly  luxuries — sighing,  they  say,  what  is  money 
without  health  ?  That  speech  may  come  very  well  from 
those  who  never  knew  what  it  is  to  be  a  slave ;  but 
what  is  health  without  liberty — health  in  chains  ? 

We  sympathize  even  with  the  strong  instinctive 
love  of  freedom  which  appears  in  the  lower  animals— 
the  bounding  noisy  joy  of  the  household  dog  when  he 
gets  ofif  his  chain  ;  the  sudden  change  on  the  weary 
horse,  when,  shaking  off  his  fatigue  with  his  harness,  he 


REDEMPTION.  125 


tosses  his  head,  and,  with  buoyant  spirits  and  flowing 
mane,  careers  amid  his  fellows  over  the  pasture  field. 
It  has  moved  our  pity  to  see  a  noble  eagle  chained  to 
the  perch,  and,  as  she  expanded  her  broad  sails,  turn  up 
a  longing  eye  to  the  golden  clouds  her  wing  shall  never 
more  cleave,  to  the  bright  blue  skies  where  she  shall 
never  more  soar.  I  have  felt  a  deeper  sympathy  with 
the  free-born  denizen  of  the  air,  that,  pining  for  his 
native  haunts,  declines  his  food,  refuses  to  be  tamed,  and, 
dashing  against  the  bars,  dies — strangled  in  struggles  to 
escape,  than  with  the  tamed  and  gentle  captive  which 
takes  its  food  from  some  fair  jailer's  hand,  and  sings  the 
song  of  golden  moors  and  green  woodlands  within  an 
iron  cage. 

Much  more,  of  course,  do  we  sympathise  with  our 
fellow-creatures, — with  the  Hebrew  exiles,  for  instance, 
who  hung  their  harps  on  the  willows  by  Babylon's 
sluggish  streams,  nor  could  sing  the  songs  of  Sion  in  a 
strange  land ;  with  all  those,  whether  slaves  or  citizens, 
who  have  made  the  altars  of  Liberty  red  with  their 
blood,  preferring  death  to  bondage.  If  I  can  judge  from 
the  interest  with  which  I  watched  the  progress,  and,  I 
confess  it,  all  but  wished  for  the  escape  of  a  man,  who, 
with  the  officers  of  justice  at  his  heels,  was  running  a 
race  for  freedom,  I  believe  that  unless  the  offence  is  one 
which  nature  taught  us  to  avenge,  it  would  cost  a 
struggle  between  one's  sense  of  duty  as  a  subject,  and 
one's  sympathy  with  man's  love  of  Hberty,  to  arrest  a 
runaway  prisoner.  But  who  would  arrest  a  runaway 
slave?     Who,  that  ever  tasted  the  sweets  of  liberty, 


126  KEDEMPTION. 


would  not  help  him  ?  What  is  the  colour  of  his  skin 
to  me  ?  He  is  a  brother  wronged  ;  a  man  oppressed ; 
nor  were  he  a  man  who  would  not  in  such  circumstances 
espouse  the  side  of  innocent  weakness  against  tyrannous 
strength ;  and  hide  him,  and  feed  him,  and  lodge  him, 
and  help  him,  from  chains  and  stripes  and  slavery,  on  to 
freedom. 

If  so,  who  would  be  himself  a  slave  ?  What  value 
should  we  set  on  health  if  we  had  to  rise  to  our  work 
in  the  rice  swamp,  in  the  cane  or  cotton-field,  at  the 
sound  of  the  horn  ;  and  were  driven  to  it,  like  oxen, 
with  the  crack  of  the  whip  ?  Health  !  what  value 
would  a  man  set  on  life  itself,  were  his  children  to 
be  torn  from  his  arms,  set  up  to  auction,  and,  knocked 
down  to  the  highest  bidder — sold  before  his  eyes  to 
slavery ;  if  he  must  stand  by  and  hear  their  mother's 
piercing  shrieks,  as  with  bended  knees  and  outstretched 
hands  she  implores — in  vain  implores  for  pity  ;  stand 
by,  and  hear  his  own  mother  cry  for  mercy,  as  the 
breast  that  nursed  him  bleeds  under  the  cutting  lash ; 
who  would  value  life  a  straw,  if  he  must  stand  by,  nor 
speak  a  word,  nor  shed  a  tear,  nor  from  his  bursting 
bosom  heave  a  groan,  nor  lift  a  hand  in  their  defence  ? 
How  sad  it  is  to  think  that  there  are  lands,  governed 
by  Christian  men,  and  in  the  prostituted  name  of  liberty, 
where  such  scenes  are  witnessed,  and  crimes  so  foul  are 
done!  It  almost  tempts  one  to  pray  that  an  avenging 
Heaven  would  blight  and  wither  and  blast  the  fields 
that  are  watered  with  human  tears  : — "  Ye  mountains 
of  Gilboa,  let  there  be  no  dew,  neither  let  there  be  rain 


REDEMPTION.  127 


upon  you,  nor  fields  of  offerings."  May  God  give  a 
noble  country  grace  and  power  to  wipe  from  its  shield 
so  black  a  stain ! 

In  these  sentiments,  I  have  no  doubt  you  all  sym- 
pathise. But  1  have  to  tell  you  of  a  worse  and  more  de- 
grading— a  more  cruel  and  dreadful  slavery.  There  are 
among  us  many  greater  and  more  to  be  pitied  slaves. 
I  refer  to  those  who,  as  the  servants  of  Satan,  are  sold 
unto  sin.  Would  to  God  that  we  set  the  same  high 
price  on  spiritual  as  we  do  on  earthly  liberty !  Ah,  then 
what  efforts  would  be  put  forth,  what  struggles  would  be 
made,  what  long,  earnest,  unwearying  prayers  be  offered 
for  salvation  !  And,  when  saved  ourselves,  how  anxious 
^ould  we  be  for  the  salvation  of  others  ?  In  the 
touching  narrative  of  a  fugitive  slave  I  have  read  how, 
when  he  himself  had  escaped,  the  thought  of  his  mother 
— a  mother  dear — and  sisters  still  in  bondage,  haunted 
him  night  and  day,  embittering  the  sweetness  of  his 
own  cup.  He  found  no  rest.  Liberty  to  him  was 
little  more  than  a  name,  until  they  also  were  free. 
And  surely  one  may  wonder  how  Christians  can  give 
God  any  rest,  or  take  it  themselves,  while  those  near 
and  dear  to  them  are  in  the  gall  of  bitterness,  and 
in  the  bond  of  iniquity?  And  why  is  it,  moreover, 
that  when  his  servants  appear,  proclaiming  through  Christ 
liberty  to  the  captives,  and  the  opening  of  the  prison 
to  them  that  are  bound,  so  few  hearts  leap  for  joy, 
and  so  many  hear  it — as  if  they  needed  it  not,  heard 
it  not,  heeded  it  not — with  calm,  cold,  frigid  indif- 
ference ?     Go,    proclaim    emancipation   in    a  land    of 


128  REDEMPTION. 


slaves,  and  the  news  shall  fly  like  wildfire — sweep  on 
like  flames  over  the  summer  prairie.  At  such  glad  tidings 
how  the  bed-rid  would  leap  from  his  couch ;  the  lame 
throw  away  his  crutches;  the  old  grow  young;  the  people 
go  mad  with  joy.  Mothers  with  new  feelings  would  kiss 
their  babes,  and  press  them  to  their  bosoms ;  brothers, 
sisters,  friends,  would  rush  into  each  other's  arms,  to  con- 
gratulate each  the  other  that  they  were  free ;  and,  weeping 
the  first  tears  of  joy  their  eyes  had  ever  shed,  would 
they  not  make  hut  and  hall,  forest  and  mountain,  ring 
with  the  glorious  name  of  him  who  had  fought  their  long 
hard  battle,  nor  ceased,  nor  relaxed,  his  efforts  till  he  had 
achieved  their  freedom  ?  Jesus!  with  what  jubilant  songs, 
then,  should  we  celebrate  thy  name,  and  enshrine  thy 
memory  in  our  best  affections  !  What  great  glad  tidings 
these,  redemptioQ  through  thy  blood !  Oh  that  God 
would  inspire  us  with  such  a  love  of  it,  and  give  us  so 
great  enjoyment  in  it,  that  with  some  foretaste  of  the 
joys,  we  might  sing  this  song  of  heaven.  Unto  him 
that  loved  us,  and  washed  us  from  our  sins  in  his  own 
blood,  and  hath  made  us  kings  and  priests  unto  God 
and  his  Father,  to  him  be  glory  and  dominion  for 
ever  and  ever.     Amen. 

In    directing    your    attention    to    this    subject,    1 
remark — 


I.  That  we  all  need  redemption. 

To  a  man  nigh  unto  death,  who  is  labouring  under 
some  deadly  malady,  and  knows  it,  ofier  a  medicine 


REDEMPTION.  129 


which  has  virtue  to  cure  him,  and  he  will  buy  it  at  any 
price.  In  his  eyes  that  precious  drug  is  worth  all  the 
gold  on  earth.  But  offer  that,  which'  he  grasps 
at,  to  one  who  believes  himself  to  be  in  robust  and 
perfect  health,  and  he  holds  it  cheap.  Just  so,  and  for 
a  similar  reason,  the  Saviour  and  his  redemption  are 
slighted,  despised,  and  rejected  of  men.  Some  of  you 
have  no  adequate  conception  of  your  lost  state  as 
sinners ;  nor  do  you  feel,  therefore,  your  great  need  of 
salvation.  The  first  work,  accordingly,  of  God's  Holy 
Spirit  in  conversion  is  to  rouse  a  man  from  the  torpor 
which  the  poison  of  sin — like  the  venom  of  a  snake 
infused  into  the  veins,  produces,  to  make  him  feel 
his  illness,  to  convince  him  of  his  guilt,  to  make  him 
sensible  of  his  misery.  And  blessed  the  book,  blessed 
the  preacher,  blessed  the  providence  that  sends  that 
conviction  into  our  hearts,  and  lodges  it,  like  a  barbed 
arrow,  there.  For,  to  an  alarmed  conscience,  to  a  soul 
convinced  of  sin  and  misery,  who  so  welcome  as  the 
Saviour  ?  Let  a  man,  who  fancied  that  he  was  in  no 
danger,  see-  himself  to  be  in  great  danger,  know  that  he  is 
a  poor,  polluted,  perishing  sinner,  lost  by  nature,  lying 
under  sentence  of  death,  deserving  the  wrath  of  God, 
and,  like  one  standing  over  a  volcano,  separated  from 
hell  only  by  a  thin  crust  of  earth,  which,  becoming 
thinner  and  thinner  as  the  fire  eats  it  away,  is  already 
bending,  cracking  beneath  his  feet,  ah  !  he  understands 
the  import  of  the  words,  Unto  you  therefore  which 
believe,  he  is  precious.  Now  that  Christ  may  be  so 
to  you,  and  that  the  grace  of  God  which  bringeth  salvation 


130  REDEMPTION. 


may  not  come  to  you  in  vain,  let  me  show  how  all  of  us 
require  to  be  redeemed  from  the  slavery  of  sin  and 
Satan.     And  I  remark — 

1.  That  this  slavery  is  the  natural  state  of  man. 

We  pity,  how  greatly  do  we  pity,  the  mother,  as 
one  robbed  of  a  mother's  best  joys,  who  knows  that  the 
little  creature  which  hangs  on  her  bosom  is  a  slave  ;  and 
only  smiles  because  unconscious  of  its  sad  estate.  But 
this  calamity  is  ours.  The  progeny  of  slaves  are  slaves 
themselves.  And  we,  having  sprung  from  parents  who, 
in  the  expressive  language  of  Scripture,  had  sold  them- 
selves for  nought,  leave  our  mother's  womb  in  bondage 
to  sin.  Accordingly,  David  says,  "Behold,  I  was  shapen 
in  iniquity  ;  and  in  sin  did  my  mother  conceive  me." 
Let  me  recall  to  your  recollection  the  testimony  on 
this  subject  of  one  who,  so  far  as  civil  liberty  and 
Roman  citizenship  were  concerned,  was  free  born.  You 
know  how  Paul  stood  on  his  rights  as  a  Roman.  He 
dared  them  to  scourge  him  as  they  would  a  slave. 
Yet,  speaking  of  himself,  as  before  God,  and  in  the  eye 
of  a  holy  law,  he  says,  I  am  carnal,  sold  under  sin. 
And — not  to  multiply  examples — in  what  terms  does  he 
address  his  converts?  "  Ye  were,"  he  says,  "  the  servants 
of  sin,"  or,  as  we  would  express  it,  ye  were  the  slaves 
of  sin.  The  slaves !  for  observe,  I  pray  you,  that  the 
word  which  is  there  translated  servant,  means  not  a 
servant  simply,  but  a  servant  who  is  a  slave ;  not  one 
hired  for  a  period,  whom  the  next  term  sets  free  to 
leave  or  stay,  but  one  bound,  branded  with  the  mark  of 
a  perpetual  bondage ;  and  so  the  apostle  says,  "  God  be 


REDEMPTION.  131 


thanked  that  ye  were  the  servants  of  sin,  but  ye  have 
obeyed  from  the  heart  that  form  of  doctrine  which  was 
delivered  you,"  "  Being  then  made  free  from  sin,  ye 
became  the  servants  of  righteousness."  David  uses 
stronger  terms.  In  one  of  his  psalms,  he  uses  this 
very  strong  expression,  "  I  was  as  a  beast  before 
thee."  And,  though  few  of  us  have  the  deep  sense  of 
sin  which  that  holy  man  had,  there  is  no  child  of  God 
who  recalls  the  past  to  memory — what  he  was,  and  how 
he  felt  antecedent  to  his  conversion,  who  looks  back 
beyond  that  blessed  day  when  the  truth  made  him 
free,  but  will  be  ready  to  acknowledge  that  he  was  a  man 
in  bonds.  Not  master  of  himself,  and  free  to  follow  the 
dictates  of  conscience  and  God's  word,  he  slaved  in  the 
service  of  the  devil,  the  world,  and  the  flesh — three  hard 
taskmasters.  On  that  ever  memorable  day  fetters  stronger 
than  iron  were  struck  from  his  limbs. 

I  do  not  affirm  that  the  most  advanced  saint  is  alto- 
gether free  from  the  bondage  of  sin.  No.  The  holiest 
believer  carries  that  about  with  him  which  painfully 
reminds  him  of  his  old  condition.  I  have  seen  a  noble 
dog  which  had  broken  loose  and  restored  itself  to  liberty, 
dragging  the  chain,  or  some  links  of  it,  along  with  him. 
I  have  read  of  brave  stout  captives  who  had  escaped  from 
prison,  but  who  brought  away  with  them,  in  swollen  joints 
or  festering  wounds,  the  marks  and  injuries  of  the  cruel 
fetters.  And  do  not  old  sins  thus  continue  to  hang  about 
a  man  even  after  grace  has  delivered  him  from  their  domi- 
nant power?  Have  you  not  felt  that  these  called  for 
constant  watchfulness  and  earnest  prayer  ?     Who  does 


132  REDEMPTION. 


not  need  every  day  and  hour  to  resort  to  the  fountain 
of  cleansing,  and  wash  his  heart  in  the  blood  of  Christ 
oftener  than  he  washes  his  hands  in  water?  We  need 
to  be  renewed  day  by  day ;  converted,  as  it  were,  not 
once,  or  twice,  but — every  day.  Surely  the  happiness 
of  a  child  of  God  lies  mainly  in  this,  that  sin,  though 
it  remains  within  his  heart,  has  ceased  to  reign  there, 
and  that,  made  perfect  at  length  in  holiness,  he  shall 
enter  by  the  dismal  gate  of  death  into  the  full  and 
glorious  liberty  of  the  children  of  God. 

2.  This  slavery  is  the  universal  state  of  man. 

Both  sacred  and  profane  history  show  that  slavery, 
as  it  is  one  of  the  worst,  is  one  of  the  oldest  human,  not 
humane,  institutions.  At  an  early  period  of  man's  history, 
in  Cain,  he  who  should  have  been  his  brother's  keeper 
became  his  murderer.  And  when  afterwards  man  did 
become  his  brother's  keeper,  alas !  it  was  too  often  as  an 
owner — selling,  buying,  oppressing  him.  It  is  long,  very 
long  since  men  and  women,  with  broken  hearts,  turned  a 
wishful  eye  on  the  grave  as  a  welcome  refuge — -where  the 
wicked  cease  from  troubUng,  and  the  weary  be  at  rest. 
But  while  there  might  be  lands  that  slavery  never 
cursed,  and  while  there  were  in  every  slave  land  a 
number  who  in  a  sense  were  free,  the  slavery  of  sin 
spared  no  land.  There  are  no  "  free-soilers,"  so  far  as 
sin  is  concerned.  It  has  exempted  no  class.  The  king 
on  his  throne,  as  much  as  the  beggar  on  his  dunghill,  is 
a  slave.  The  loveliest  woman  as  much  as  the  vilest 
outcast,  the  proudest  peer  and  poorest  peasant,  the  man 
of  letters  and  the  man  so  ignorant  as  not  to  know  the 


REDEMPTION.  133 


letters,  Jew  and  Greek,  bond  and  free,  are  all  branded  and 
bound ;  and,  like  the  gang  of  miserable  captives  which 
the  slave-dealer  is  driving  to  the  sea-bord,  they  are 
moving  on  to  eternity — bound  in  one  long  chain  with 
every  minor  distinction  sunk  in  the  one  misery,  that  all 
are  sold  under  sin.  In  this,  every  difference  of  race, 
and  rank,  and  colour,  is  merged.  Every  man's  heart  is 
black — whatever  his  face  may  be. 

It  matters  little,  indeed,  nothing  before  God,  whether 
a  man  has  a  dark  face  or  a  pale  one ;  but  it  is  all  important 
whether  he  has  a  black  heart  or  no — whether  our  sin- 
stained  souls  have  or  have  not  been  washed  white  in  the 
blood  of  Jesus  Christ.  What  avails  it  that  you  are  not 
bound  in  fetters  of  man's  forging,  if  you  are  bound  in  the 
devil's  chain?  The  difference,  yonder,  between  the  white 
master  with  his  lash,  and  the  poor,  trembling,  crouching 
black,  over  whom  he  cracks  it,  is  lost  in  this,  that 
both  are  under  bondage  to  sin.  And  I  dare  to  say  that 
of  the  two,  the  bigger,  blacker,  baser  slave  is  he,  who, 
boastful  of  his  vaunted  freedom,  and  proud  of  his  blood 
and  colour,  holds  a  brother  in  chains.  The  driver  is 
more  a  slave  than  the  driven ;  the  oppressor  than  the 
oppressed.  What  chain,  I  ask,  has  been  forged  for  human 
limbs  so  strong,  degrading,  intensely  hateful  in  the  sight 
of  God,  as  the  base  cupidity  which  breeds  human  beings, 
like  cattle,  for  the  market ;  and  grasps  at  wealth,  although 
its  price  be  groans  and  tears  and  blood  and  broken 
hearts  ? 

3.  This  slavery  is  the  actual  state  of  all  uncon- 
verted men. 


134  REDEMPTION. 


Some  are  slaves  of  one  sin  ;  some  of  another  ;  and 
the  forms  of  slavery  are  as  many  and  varied  as  the  sins 
which  people  are  addicted  to.  Let  me  give  a  few 
examples. 

(1.)  Some  are  slaves  of  gold.  How  they  drudge 
for  it !  .  Their  tyrant,  the  love  of  money,  rules  them 
with  a  rod  of  iron.  Naturally  kind,  they  feel  dis- 
posed to  assist  the  poor ;  but,  No,  says  their  master ;  and 
with  an  iron  heel  he  crushes  the  tenderest  feeHngs  of 
their  heart.  Visited  occasionally  with  solemn  thoughts, 
and  not  altogether  dead  to  the  claims  of  Christ,  they 
would  part  with  something  worthy  of  their  wealth  and 
of  his  cause ;  but  what  is  Christ  to  Mammon  ?  Again, 
their  master  says,  No ;  you  must  make  more  money ; 
toil  on,  ye  slaves ;  you  may  not  trust  man,  and  you 
cannot  trust  God ;  toil  on  ;  you  must  be  as  rich  as 
that  man,  and  leave  a  fortune  for  your  heirs  to  quarrel 
about  over  your  grave,  or  squander  in  folly  and  dissipa- 
tion. And  thus,  blushing  at  his  mean  excuse,  the  poor 
wretch — for  I  call  him  poor  who  has  money  which  he 
cannot  use — sends  Christ's  cause  away  to  beg  with  more 
success  at  a  much  poorer  door.  Talk  of  slaves  and 
slave-masters  !  What  bondage  like  that  which  con- 
demns a  man  to  do  what  he  condemns  himself  for  doing, 
to  harden  his  heart  against  the  claims  of  pity,  to  deny 
his  own  flesh  and  blood,  to  lie,  cheat,  and  defraud,  or,  if 
not  that,  every  day  of  his  life  to  run  counter  to  the 
divine  saying,  What  shall  it  profit  a  man  if  he  shall 
gain  the  whole  world,  and  lose  his  own  soul?  From 
such  bondage,  good  Lord,  deliver  us !     *<  Thou,  0  man 


REDEMPTION.  135 


of  God,  flee  these  things,  and  follow  after  righteousness, 
godliness,  faith,  love,  patience,  meekness;"  "fight  the 
good  fight  of  faith;"  and,  like  gold  which  a  drowning 
man  will  drop  to  clutch  the  rope  flung  to  him  from  ship 
or  shore,  let  go  the  world.  With  thy  hands  set  free, 
lay  hold  on  eternal  life. 

(2.)  Some  are  the  slaves  of  lust.  To  what  base 
society  does  it  condemn  them?  To  what  acts  of  meanest 
treachery  and  blackest  villany  do  their  tyrant  passions 
drive  them  ?  Think  of  a  man  drowning  his  conscience, 
and  by  that  deed  effacing  from  his  soul  the  most  distinct 
remaining  traces  of  the  image  of  God !  Of  all  sinners, 
these  are  most  like  their  master,  the  Devil,  when  he 
changed  himself  into  a  serpent,  with  its  lying  tongue  and 
smooth  glittering  skin,  to  win  a  woman's  trust.  They 
creep  into  the  bosom  which  they  intend  to  sting,  and 
put  forth  their  powers  to  fascinate  some  happy  singing 
bird,  who  goes  fluttering,  but,  spell-bound,  cannot  help 
going,  into  their  open  devouring  jaws.  Better  be  a  slave 
and  die  heart-broken,  than  be  a  heart-breaker.  The 
thief — the  mean,  sneaking,  pilfering  thief — that  steals  my 
money,  is  a  man  of  honour  compared  with  him  who  steals 
a  woman's  virtue,  and  robs  a  household  of  its  peace. 

(3.)  Some  are  slaves  of  drunkenness.  Of  all  sla- 
very this  is  the  most  helpless,  and  the  most  hopeless. 
Other  sins  drown  conscience,  but  this  reason  and  con- 
science too.  More,  perhaps,  than  any  other  vice,  this 
blots  out  the  vestiges  of  that  divine  image  in  which  we 
were  originally  formed,  and  reduces  man  to  the  lowest 
degradation — lower  than  a  beast.       Smiting  him  with 


136  REDEMPTION. 


the  greatest  impotency,  in  sucii  slavery  as  that  of  iron 
to  a  magnet  is  the  poor  besotted  drunkard  to  his  cups. 
He  who  is  a  slave  to  man,  may  retain  his  self-respect, 
cherish  his  wife,  and  love  his  children ;  and,  raising  his 
fettered  hands  in  prayer  to  heaven,  may  preserve  and 
present  in  his  very  chains  the  image  of  God  ;  but  yonder 
wretch,  with  beggary  hung  on  his  back,  and  dissipation 
stamped  on  his  bloated  face — dead  to  shame,  or,  hanging 
his  head,  and  passing  old  acquaintances  with  averted  eye 
— degraded  before  the  world,  and  expelled  from  the 
communion  of  the  church — lying  in  the  gutter — or 
beating  his  wife,  or  cursing  his  flying  children,  and  in 
his  sober  moments  cursing  himself — ah,  he  is  a  slave 
indeed.  What  hope  for  a  man  who  reels  up  to  the 
bar  of  judgment,  and  staggers  drunk  into  his  Maker's 
presence?  Let  his  fate  excite  your  fears  as  well  as 
pity.  I  say  with  the  apostle,  "  Let  him  that  thinketh 
he  staudeth,  take  heed  lest  he  fall."  Have  I  not  seen 
many,  whose  spring  budded  with  the  fairest  promises, 
live  to  be  a  shame,  and  sorrow,  and  deep  disgrace? 
And,  though  it  were  revealed  from  heaven  that  you 
yourself  should  never  fall,  is  there  nothing  due  to  others? 
Does  not  that  bloody  cross,  with  its  blessed  victim,  call 
upon  every  Christian  to  live  not  to  himself,  but  to  think 
of  other's  things,  as  well  as  of  his  own  ?  Every  man 
must  judge  for  himself ;  to  his  own  master  he  standeth 
or  he  falleth.  But  when  1  think  of  all  the  beggary,  and 
misery,  and  shame,  and  crime,  and  sorrow,  of  which 
drunkenness  is  the  prolific  mother,  of  the  many  hearts  it 
breaks,  of  the  happy  homes  it  curses,  of  the  precious 


REDEMPTION.  137 


souls  it  ruins,  I  do  not  hesitate  to  say  that  the  question 
of  abstinence  deserves  the  prayerful  consideration  of 
every  man ;  and  that,  moreover,  he  appears  to  me  to 
consult  most  the  glory  of  God,  the  honour  of  Jesus,  and 
the  best  interests  of  his  fellow-men,  who  applies  to  all 
intoxicating  stimulants  the  Apostolic  rule,  Touch  not, 
taste  not,  handle  not.  In  regard  to  no  sin  can  it 
be  so  truly  said  that  our  adversary  the  devil,  as  a 
roaring  lion,  walketh  about  seeking  whom  he  may 
devour. 

(4.)  Some  are  slaves  to  the  opinions  of  the  world. 
It  was  the  boast  of  the  Macedonian  that  he  had  conquered 
the  world  ;  the  world  can  boast  that  it  has  conquered 
them.  Subservient  to  its  opinions,  theirs  is  the  miser- 
able condition  of  an  unhappy  servant,  who  has  to  bear 
in  some  ill-governed  household  the  caprices,  not  of  one 
mistress,  but  of  many.  The  fear  of  the  Lord  is  the 
beginning  of  wisdom,  but  the  fear  of  man  bringeth 
a  snare.  How  many  of  the  young  are  ruifled,  just 
because  they  have  not  the  courage  to  say.  Nay,  to  do 
what  they  know  to  be  right — allowing  themselves  to  be 
laughed  out  of  their  virtuous  habits,  and  early  holy  train- 
ing. Then,  into  what  misery  do  we  see  parents  plunge 
themselves  and  their  families  by  a  course  of  extrava- 
gance, into  which  they  are  drawn  by  the  whirlpool  of 
fashion.  To  sacrifice  the  well-being  of  your  children 
to  a  wretched  vanity,  to  do  mean  or  dishonest  things 
that  you  may  appear  genteel,  to  prefer  the  approbation 
of  the  world  to  that  of  your  own  conscience,  to  incur 
the  wrath  of  God  that  you  may  win  a  man's  or  woman's 

G  2 


138  REDEMPTION. 


smiles,  to  stand  more  in  fear  of  the  hiss  of  dying  men 
than  of  the  deadly  serpent — this  slavery,  common  in  the 
world,  is  one  to  which  Christ's  freemen  should  not  yield 
— no,  not  for  an  hour.  Hear  how  God  asks,  as  in  sur- 
prise, "  Who  art  thou,  that  thou  shouldest  be  afraid  of 
a  man  that  shall  die,  and  of  the  son  of  man  which  shall 
be  made  as  grass ;  and  forgettest  the  Lord,  thy  maker, 
that  hath  stretched  forth  the  heavens,  and  laid  the 
foundations  of  the  earth?" 

Yet  see,  how  men  of  the  noblest  genius  and  proudest 
intellect  have  crouched,  slave  like,  before  the  world, 
laying  their  heads  in  the  very  dust  at  her  feet.  When 
Byron,  for  instance,  stood  aloft  on  the  pinnacle  of  his 
fame,  he  confessed  that  the  disapprobation  of  the  meanest 
critic  gave  him  more  pain  than  the  applause  of  all  the 
others  gave  him  pleasure.  Miserable  confession,  and 
miserable  man !  not  less  a  slave  that  laurels  wreathed 
his  brow,  and  that  a  star  glittered  on  his  breast.  What 
a  contrast  do  we  see  in  Paul  ?  He  was  a  freeman  ! 
Like  some  tall  rock,  he  stands  erect;  unmoved  from 
his  place,  or  purpose,  or  judgment,  or  resolution,  by 
the  storm  of  a  world's  disapprobation  raging  fiercely 
around  him.  "  With  me,"  he  says,  "  it  is  a  very  small 
thing  that  I  should  be  judged  of  you,  or  of  man's  judg- 
ment ;  ....  he  that  judgeth  me  is  the  Lord."  What 
moral  grandeur  is  here !  What  a  testimony  to  the 
elevating  power  of  piety  !  What  a  glorious  illustration 
of  the  poet's  words, 

"  He  is  the  freeman  whom  the  truth  makes  free, 
And  all  are  slaves  besides." 


REDEMPTION.  139 


lu  old  times,  men  and  women  were  said  to  have  sold 
their  souls  to  Satan,  consenting  that  he  should  have 
them  at  death,  on  condition  of  receiving  a  power  to  com- 
mand, in  their  lifetime,  any  wealth,  any  honours,  any 
pleasure  their  hearts  might  desire.  As  the  story  goes, 
the  devil  held  them  to  the  bargain ;  and,  when  they 
died,  the  old  castle  shook,  and  the  screech-owls  hooted, 
and  the  dogs  howled,  and  the  lights  burned  blue,  and 
the  tempest  roared,  and  people  crossed  themselves  aa 
they  heard  the  shrieking  spirit  borne  away  through  the 
black  night  to  hell.  An  old  superstition  !  True  ;  yet 
fables  are  often  less  wonderful  than  facts ;  and  there 
are  things  more  incredible  in  real  life  than  you  or  I  have 
read  in  the  wildest  romance.  Did  Satan,  according  to 
these  old  legends,  drive  a  hard  bargain  ?  With  sinners, 
now,  he  drives  a  harder.  Deluded,  defrauded,  cheated, 
the  poor  sinner  has  no  lifetime,  no  season  of  profit  and 
pleasure.  He  sells  himself  for  nought.  I  could  fill 
this  house  with  living  proofs  of  it.  They  swarm  in  our 
streets  in  their  rags  and  wretchedness.  And  what 
though  many,  who  are  living  a  life  of  sin,  are  apparently 
happy  and  prosperous  ?  If  their  hearts  had  a  window 
whereby  we  could  look  within,  and  see  the  fears  that 
agitate  them,  the  gnawing  of  remorse,  the  stings  of 
conscience,  the  apprehensions  of  discovery  and  impend- 
ing evil  that  haunt  the  steps  and  cloud  the  path  of 
guilt,  we  should  conclude  that,  though  there  were 
neither  hell  nor  hereafter,  the  way  of  transgressors  is 
hard.  From  their  way  I  pray  all  here  to  turn.  Why 
will   ye   die?      Why?   when  Christ  is  willing,  wish- 


140  REDEMPTION. 


ful,  waiting  to  save.  Sin's  is  a  miserable  thraldom. 
If  its  wretched  slaves,  you  are  the  objects  of  deepest 
compassion.  Nor  ever  more  so  than  when,  intoxicated 
with  the  pleasant  but  poisoned  cup,  you  sing  and  laugh 
and  dance  in  chains.  To  men  in  your  circumstances, 
and  with  your  appalling  prospects,  how  may  we  apply 
the  words,  I  said  of  laughter,  It  is  mad ;  and  of  mirth, 
What  doeth  it  ?  God  help  you !  God  bring  you  to 
a  better  mind;  that,  raising  your  fettered  arms  and 
weeping  eyes  to  heaven  for  help  to  burst  these  fatal, 
accursed  bonds,  you  may  be  free — blessed  with  holy 
liberty,  and  true  peace,  and  pure  pleasure,  and  lasting 
joys — redeemed  and  ransomed  by  the  blood  of  Christ. 


CHRIST    THE    REDEEMER. 

In  whom  we  have  redemption  through  his  blood,  even  the  forgiveness 
of  sins. — CoLOSsiANS  i.  14. 

lyrO  place  touches  us  with  a  more  melancholy  sense 
of  the  fleeting  nature  of  earthly  glory,  than  an  old 
deserted  castle.  All  is  gone  but  the  main  keep.  Stoutly 
battling  with  time,  as  one  not  easily  subdued,  it  stands  erect 
in  its  ruin  amid  the  grass-green  mounds,  that,  like  graves 
of  the  past,  show  where  other  buildings  once  have  stood. 
Grey  with  moss,  or  mantled  with  ivy,  the  strong  thick 
walls  are  slowly  mouldering ;  and  there  is  deep  desolation 
in  these  silent  courts.  No  step  but  our  own  treads  the 
floor  that  in  other  days  shook  to  the  dancers'  feet ;  nor 
sound  is  heard  in  halls  which  once  rung  with  music, 
and  sweet  voices,  and  merry  laughter,  but  the  moaning 
v/ind,  which  seems  to  wail  for  the  wreck  around  it ;  or 
the  sudden  rush  and  flapping  of  some  startled  bird  that 
flies  at  our  intrusion  from  her  lonely  nest.  If  happily 
an  empty  chain  hangs  rusting  in  the  dungeon  where 
captives  once  had  pined,  how  cold  the  hearth  around 
whose  roaring  fires  in  long  winter  nights  many  a  tale 
was  told,  and  many  a  bright  group  had  gathered,  and 
the   mother  nursed  her  babe,  and  the  father  told  his 


142  CHRIST  THE  REDEEMER. 

rapt  and  listening  boys  of  stirring  scenes  in  flood 
and  field !  In  the  grass-grown  court  below,  where 
once  they  had  mustered  gay  for  the  bridal,  or  grim 
for  battle,  the  sheep  are  quietly  feeding.  And  here 
on  the  battlement  some  pine,  or  birch,  or  mountain- 
ash,  rooted  in  a  crevice  and  fed  by  decay,  lifts  its 
stunted  form,  where  the  banner  of  an  ancient  house 
floated  proudly  in  days  of  old,  or  spread  itself  out, 
defiant,  as  the  fight  raged  around  the  beleaguered  walls, 
and  the  war-cry  of  assailants  without  was  answered  by 
the  cheers  of  gallant  men  within.  Now  all  is  changed 
— the  stage  a  ruin,  spectators  and  actors  gone.  They 
sleep  in  the  grave  ;  their  loves,  and  wars,  their  fears,  and 
joys,  and  sorrows — where  ours,  too,  soon  shall  be — 
buried  in  its  cold  oblivion. 

*'  Their  memory  and  their  name  is  gone, 
Alike  unknowing  and  unknown." 

And,  greatest  change  of  all,  the  heirs  of  those  who 
reared  that  massy  pile,  and  rode  helmed  to  battle  with 
a  thousand  vassals  at  their  back,  have  sunk  amid  the 
wrecks  of  fortune.  Fallen  into  meanness  and  obscurity, 
as  humble  rustics^  they  now,  perhaps,  plough  the  lands 
which  once  their  fathers  held^ 

Such  changes  have  happened  in  our  country.  But 
changes  corresponding  to  these  never  happened  in 
ancient  Israel.  It  was  there,  as  in  the  heavens  above 
us,  whose  luminaries,  after  a  certain  period  of  time  has 
elapsed,  always  return  to  the  same  place  in  the  firmament, 
and  the  same  relative  position  to  each  other.     The  sun, 


CHRIST  THE  REDEEMER.  143 

for  instance — although  changing  his  place  daily — shall 
rise  and  set,  twelve  months  from  this  date,  at  the  same 
hour,  and  appear  at  his  meridian  in  the  same  spot  as 
to-day.  Corresponding  to  that,  or  like  the  revolution 
of  a  wheel,  which  restores  every  spoke  to  its  former 
place,  society — whatever  change  meanwhile  took  place 
in  personal  liberty  or  hereditary  property — returned 
among  the  old  Hebrews  to  the  very  same  state  in  which 
it  was  at  the  commencement  of  those  fifty  years,  whose 
close  brought  in  the  jubilee.  "  Then,"  said  Moses, 
"  shalt  thou  cause  the  trumpet  of  the  jubilee  to  sound 
on  the  tenth  day  of  the  seventh  month,  in  the  day  of 
atonement  shall  ye  make  the  trumpet  sound  throughout 
all  your  land.  And  ye  shall  hallow  the  fiftieth  year, 
and  proclaim  liberty  throughout  all  the  land  unto  all  the 
inhabitants  thereof;  it  shall  be  a  jubilee  unto  you;  and 
ye  shall  return  every  man  unto  his  possession,  and  ye 
shall  return  every  man  unto  his  family." 

In  consequence  either  of  his  crimes  or  his  misfortunes, 
the  Hebrew  was  occasionally  obliged  to  part  with  his 
paternal  estate.  His  was  sometimes  a  still  greater  cala- 
mity ;  for  not  only  was  his  property  sold,  but  his  liberty. 
He  became  the  bond-servant  of  some  more  fortunate 
brother.  So  matters  stood  till  the  fiftieth  year  arrived, 
and  the  jubilee  was  blown.  At  that  trumpet  sound — 
how  fondly  anticipated  !  how  gladly  heard ! — the  fetters 
fall  from  his  limbs,  and  the  slave  of  yesterday  is  to-day 
a  freeman.  At  that  trumpet-sound  the  beggar  dofis  his 
rags,  the  weary  labourer  throws  down  his  tools.  Mar- 
riage-bells never  rang  so  merry  as  that  blessed  peal ;  it 


144  CHRIST  THE  REDEEMER. 

has  changed  the  serf  into  a  freeholder,  a  man  of  substance 
and  position.  And  as,  blown  with  the  breath  of  liberty, 
trumpet  replied  to  trumpet,  and  the  sound  of  the  jubi- 
lee, rising  from  valley  to  mountain,  echoed  among  the 
rocky  hills,  and  spread  itself  over  the  land  from  beyond 
Jordan's  bank  to  the  shores  of  the  sea,  from  the  roots  of 
snowy  Lebanon  to  the  burning  desert — every  man  bade 
adieu  to  beggary  and  wandering  and  exile  ;  like  parted 
streams,  divided  families  were  reunited ;  long  alienated 
possessions  were  restored  to  their  original  owners ;  and, 
amid  universal  rejoicings,  feastings,  mirth,  music,  and 
dances,  every  man  returned  to  spend  the  rest  of  his 
days  in  his  father's  house,  and  when  he  died,  to  mingle 
his  own  with  ancestral  dust.  What  a  singular  institu- 
tion !  As  a  civil  arrangement,  acting  as  a  check  both 
on  excessive  wealth  and  on  excessive  poverty,  it  was 
without  a  parallel  in  any  ancient  or  modern  nation.  But 
it  was  more  ;  it  was  a  symbolical  institution.  More 
than  in  many  respects  a  great  social  blessing,  it  had  a 
deep,  holy,  spiritual  meaning.  Celebrated  on  the  great 
day  of  atonement — that  day  when  the  goat,  typical  of 
Jesus,  bore  away  the  sins  of  the  people — it  was  the 
symbol  of  a  better  restitution  and  a  better  redemption ; 
and  was,  in  fact,  a  striking,  very  beautiful,  most  benig- 
nant figure  of  the  redemption  which  we  have  through 
the  blood  of  Christ,  even  the  forgiveness  of  sins. 

Before  turning  your  attention  to  the  redemption,  of 
which  that  jubilee  was  such  a  remarkable  figure,  let  me 
by  way  of  warning  remark — 


CHRIST  THE  REDEEMER.  146 


I.   Our  redemption  is  not,  like  that  of  the  Hebrews,  a 
simple  matter  of  time. 

Every  fifty  years,  and  in  certain  cases  every  seven 
years,  redeemed  the  Hebrew,  and  restored  him  to  the 
enjoyment  of  his  property.  "  If  thy  brother,"  said  God, 
"  an  Hebrew  man,  or  an  Hebrew  woman,  be  sold  unto 
thee,  and  serve  thee  six  years ;  then  in  the  seventh  year 
thou  shalt  let  him  go  free  from  thee.  And  w^hen  thou 
sendest  him  out  free  from  thee,  thou  shalt  not  let  him  go 
away  empty."  Thus,  time  set  free  the  Hebrew  slave, 
and,  as  its  finger  moved  over  the  face  of  the  sun-dial, 
pointed  him  onwards  to  freedom.  E very w^ here,  and 
in  its  most  ordinary  course,  time  works  many  changes 
— the  young  grow  old,  and  raven  locks  grow  grey ;  the 
poor  rise  into  wealth,  while  the  rich  sink  into  poverty  ; 
old  families  disappear,  and  new  ones  start  up — like 
mushrooms.  And,  constantly  changing  the  condition 
of  society,  as  he  turns  the  wheel  of  fortune.  Time  is 
altering  the  form  even  of  this  great  globe  itself.  The 
proudest  mountains  are  bending  before  his  sceptre,  and 
yielding  to  his  silent  but  resistless  sway.  Nor  is  there 
a  tiny  stream  that  trickles  over  the  rock,  and,  often 
hid  under  the  broad  fern,  and  nodding  grasses,  and  wild 
flowers  that  grow-  on  its  narrow  banks,  betrays  itself  only 
by  the  gentle  murmur  with  which  it  descends  to  join 
the  river  that  receives  its  tribute,  and  rolls  it  onward  to 
the  ocean,  but — teaching  us  in  the  highest  matters  not 
to  despise  the  day  of  small  things — is  wearing  down  the 


146  CHRIST  THE  REDEEMER, 


mountain,  and  filling  up  the  sea.  Through  the  agencies 
of  heat  and  cold,  dews  and  rains,  summer  showers  and 
winter  snows,  time  is  remodelling  the  features  of  our 
world,  and — perhaps  in  that  symbolizing  the  onward 
progress  and  future  condition  of  society — reducing  its 
various  inequalities  to  one  great  common  level. 

But  amid  these  changes  shall  years  change,  as  a 
matter  of  course,  the  condition  of  a  sinner  ?  Shall  they 
redeem  him,  for  instance,  from  his  slavery,  or  even  relax 
the  chains  of  sin  ?  In  the  course  of  time  you  will  grow 
older,  but  not  of  necessity  better.  On  the  contrary, 
while  the  Hebrew  slave  was,  by  every  year  and  day  he 
lived,  brought  nearer  to  redemption,  and  could  say,  on 
such  a  day  and  at  such  an  hour  I  shall  be  free,  it  is  a 
solemn  and  awful  fact,  that  the  longer  you  live  in  sin, 
the  more  distant,  more  difficult,  more  hopeless,  does 
your  salvation  become.  "  The  last  state  of  that  man  is 
worse  than  the  first."  Let  us  not  flatter  ourselves  with 
the  very  common  hope,  I  shall  grow  better  as  I  grow 
older.  That  is  very  unlikely  to  happen.  The  uncon- 
verted are  less  likely  to  be  saved  at  the  jubilee  age  of 
fifty  than  at  five-and-twenty — in  their  seventieth  than 
in  their  seventh  year.  "  Oh  that  they  were  wise,  that 
they  understood  this,  that  they  would  consider  their 
latter  end  ! "  Do  you  say,  in  reply,  But  what  then  am 
I  to  do  ?  Can  I  redeem  myself?  Assuredly  not.  But 
are  we,  because  we  can  be  redeemed  only  through  the 
blood  of  Christ,  to  sit  still ;  as  if  that  redemption  would 
come  like  a  jubilee  in  the  common  course  of  providence, 
or  time,  or  nature  ?    No.     We  are  to  be  up  and  doing ; 


ciir:st  the  redeemer.  147 

since,  in  a  sense,  it  is  as  true  of  a  soul's  as  of  a  nation's 
liberty — 

"  Who  would  be  free,  themselves  must  strike  the  blow." 

I  do  not  say  that  we  are  to  rise  like  an  oppressed 
nation  which  wrings  its  liberties  from  a  tyrant's  hand;  nor 
that  we  can  purchase  redemption,  as  we  bought  with  our 
millions  the  freedom  of  West  Indian  slaves ;  nor  that 
through  works  of  righteousness  that  we  do  or  have 
done,  we  can  establish  any  claim  whatever  to  its  bless- 
ings. By  care  and  industry  you  may  acquire  goods, 
not  goodness ;  money,  but  never  merit — merit  in  the 
sight  of  God.  And  yet  I  say,  in.  God's  name,  "  labour 
not  for  the  meat  which  perisheth,  but  for  that  meat 
which  endureth  unto  everlasting  life;"  "  work  out  your 
own  salvation  with  fear  and  trembling ;"  "  give  diligence 
to  make  your  calling  and  election  sure  ;"  "  take  diligent 
heed  to  do  the  commandment  and  the  law,  to  love  the 
Lord  your  God,  and  to  walk  in  all  his  ways,  and  to 
keep  his  commandments,  and  to  cleave  unto  him,  and 
to  serve  him  with  all  your  heart,  and  with  all  your 
soul."  There  are  various  ways  of  being  diligent.  One 
man,  seated  at  the  loom,  is  busy  with  the  shuttle  ; 
another,  at  the  desk,  with  his  pen ;  another,  in  the 
field,  at  his  plough ;  another  bends  to  the  oar,  and, 
ploughing  the  deep,  reaps  his  harvest  on  the  stormy 
waters;  another,  seen  through  the  smoke  of  battle,  is 
straining  all  his  energies  on  the  bloody  field,  winning 
honours  with  the  bayonet's  rush  and  at  the  cannon's 
mouth.     And,  though  men  may  call  him  idle,  yonder 


148  CHRIST  THE  REDEEMEK. 

poor  beggar,  who,  in  orphan  child  or  infirm  old  man, 
claims  our  pit}^  and  reproves  om-  indolence,  is  busy  also — 
diligent  as  the  others.  His  hand  is  not  idle,  it  is  busy 
knocking ;  nor  are  his  feet,  they  bear  him  weary  from 
house  to  house,  from  door  to  door ;  nor  is  his  tongue, 
it  pleads  his  poverty,  and  tells  his  tale  of  sorrow  ; 
while,  pressed  by  necessity  and  earnest  of  purpose,  out 
of  his  hollow  eyes  he  throws  such  looks  of  misery,  as 
move  compassion  and  melt  the  heart. 

And  such  as  that  suppliant's,  along  with  the  use  of 
other  means,  are  the  labours,  the  diligence,  to  which 
<^lod's  gracious  mercy  and  your  own  necessities  call  you. 
Unable  to  save  yourselves,  be  it  yours  to  besiege  with 
prayers  the  throne  of  grace.  Learn  from  Simon  Peter 
what  to  do,  and  where  to  turn  ;  not  Peter  sleeping  in 
the  garden,  but  Peter  sinking  in  the  sea.  One  who  in 
his  boyhood  had  learned  to  breast  the  billow,  and  feel  at 
home  upon  the  deep,  he  makes  no  attempt  to  swim ;  the 
shore  lies  beyond  his  reach,  nor  can  boldest  swimmer 
live  amid  these  swelling  waters.  His  companions  cannot 
save  him  ;  their  boat,  unmanageable,  drifts  before  the 
gale,  and  they  cannot  save  themselves.  He  turns  his 
back  on  them.  He  directs  nor  look  nor  cry  to  them ; 
but,  fixing  his  eyes  on  that  divine  form  which,  calm, 
unmoved,  master  of  the  tempest,  steps  majestically 
on  from  billow  to  billow,  the  drowning  man  throws  out 
his  arms  to  Jesus,  and  cries  "  Lord,  save  me."  Did  he 
cry  in  vain?  No  more  shall  you.  Jesus  came  to 
seek  and  to  save  that  which  was  lost ;  nor  did  he  ever 
say  unto  any  of  the  sons  of  men.  Seek  ye  me  in  vain. 


CHRIST  THE  llEDEEMER.  14<j 


He  offered  his  soul  for  sin,   and   came  to  redeem  us 
from  all  iniquity.     Let  us  now 

11.    Consider  Christ  as  the  Redeemer ;  not  as  a  Re- 
deemer, but  the  Redeemer. 

There  is  no  other.  "  There  is  none  other  name 
under  heaven  given  among  men,  whereby  we  must  be 
saved."  All  the  types  and  symbols  of  the  Saviour 
teach  you  this.  There  was  one  ark  in  the  flood — but 
one  ;  and  all  perished  save  those  who  sailed  in  it.  There 
was  one  altar  in  the  temple — but  one  ;  and  no  sacrifices 
were  accepted  but  those  offered  there — "  the  altar,"  as 
the  Bible  says,  that  "  sanctified  the  gift."  There  was 
one  way  through  the  depths  of  the  Red  Sea  —  but 
one ;  and  only  where  the  water,  held  back  by  the 
hand  of  God,  stood  up  in  crystal  walls,  was  a  passage 
opened  for  those  that  were  ready  to  perish.  And 
even  so,  there  is  but  "  one  mediator  between  God  and 
men,  the  man  Christ  Jesus  ;"  as  our  catechism  says, 
''  The  only  Redeemer  of  God's  elect  is  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ." 

This  truth  is,  in  a  certain  sense,  and  to  some  ex- 
tent, acknowledged  by  all  churches  which  call  themselves 
Christian.  They  all  profess  to  give  Jesus  the  honours 
of  salvation;  not  excepting,  on  the  one  hand,  those  which, 
denying  the  divinity  of  our  Lord  and  the  doctrine  of  the 
atonement,  extract  its  vitality  from  the  Gospel ;  nor,  on 
the  other  hand,  those  Greek  and  Roman  churches,  which, 
by  their  additions  and  traditions,  have  buried  the  Rock 


150  CHRIST  THE  REDEEMER. 

of  Ages  beneath  a  great  heap  of  rubbish.  While,  how- 
ever, they  appear  to  regard  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  as  the 
Redeemer, and  so  seem  to  travel  on  in  company,  no  sooner 
is  the  question  started,  in  what  sense  he  is  a  Redeemer, 
than  we  arrive  at  a  point  where  they  take  different  paths, 
and  are  led,  as  they  advance,  wider  and  wider  asunder. 
That  question  introduces  us,  in  fact,  into  a  great 
controversy.  I  do  not  intend  to  enter  into  it;  but 
I  will  affirm,  that  whether  the  weapons  were  sword, 
pen,  or  tongue,  no  conflict  that  affected  the  sacred  cause 
of  liberty,  the  rights  of  man,  the  honour  or  interests  of 
nations,  ever  involved  such  important,  vital,  transcen- 
dent interests,  as  are  staked  in  the  battle  that  has  been 
waged  around  Christ's  cross,  and  about  the  question,  how 
he  saves,  in  what  sense  he  is  a  Redeemer. 

The  first  and  most  notable  champion  who  appeared 
on  the  field  was  the  apostle  Paul ;  and  as,  panoplied 
from  head  to  heel  in  the  armour  of  God,  he  stalks  into 
the  arena,  and,  looking  undaunted  around  him,  is  ready 
to  fight  and  to  die  for  the  truth,  observe  the  motto  on 
his  battle-shield,  "  I  determined  not  to  know  anything 
among  you,  save  Jesus  Christ,  and  him  crucified."  It 
is  not  simply  Jesus  Christ ;  though,  given  by  an  angel 
and  full  of  meaning,  that  was  a  great  name.  Nor 
is  it  Christ  come,  nor  Christ  coming,  nor  even  Christ 
crowned ;  but  Christ  dying  on  a  cross,  "  Christ,  and 
him  crucified."  Life  to  sinners  through  a  Saviour's 
death,  salvation  by  substitution,  redemption  through 
blood — that  blood  the  ransom  and  Jesus  the  Re- 
deemer— was  the  substance  of  all  Paul's  sermons,  the 


CHRIST  THE  REDEEMER.  151 


theme  of  his  praise,  the  deepest -rooted  and  most 
cherished  hope  of  his  heart.  lie  hved  and  died  in  that 
faith  ;  and,  though  that  tongue  of  power  and  eloquence 
be  now  silent  in  the  grave,  he  proclaims  to  listening 
angels  in  heaven  what  he  preached  to  men  on  earth. 
He  proclaims  it,  not  in  sermons,  but  in  songs ;  for  in 
that  serene  and  better  world,  where  no  storms  disturb 
the  church,  nor  controversies  rage,  nor  clouds  obscure 
the  hght,  they  sing,  salvation  by  the  blood  of  Christ. 
May  we  cast  away  all  other  hope! — and,  with  our  whole 
hearts  embracing  that,  we  shall  one  day  join  the  vast 
congregation  whose  voices  fell  on  John's  ear  as  the 
sound  of  many  waters,  while  in  harmonious  numbers 
and  to  golden  harps  they  sung  before  the  throne,  "  Thou 
wast  slain,  and  hast  redeemed  us  to  God  by  thy  blood." 

And  for  more  fully  understanding  and  appreciating 
this  doctrine,  I  remark — 

1.  Christ  does  not  redeem  us,  as  some  say,  by 
simply  revealing  the  truth — save  us  by  merely  as  a 
prophet  shewing  the  way  of  salvation. 

The  pathways  on  the  deep  along  our  rugged 
coasts,  as  well  as  our  streets,  are  lighted ;  and  yonder, 
where  the  waters  fret  and  foam  and  break  above  the 
sunken  rock,  the  tall  light-house  rises.  Kindled  at 
sundown,  it  shines  steady  and  clear  through  the  gloom 
of  night,  warning  the  seaman  at  the  wheel  of  the  danger 
he  has  to  avoid,  and  shewing  him  the  course  he  has  to 
steer.  Now  he  who  reared  that  house  and  kindled  its 
blessed  light,  and  thus  saves  many  a  bark  from  ship- 
wreck, many  a  sailor  from  a  watery  grave,  may  be 


152  CHRIST  THE  REDEEMER. 

called  a  saviour.  In  one  sense  he  is  the  saviour  of 
all  who,  bravely  ploughing  their  way  through  the  black 
midnight  over  the  stormy  deep,  hail  that  light  as  it 
rises  on  them  like  a  star  of  hope — and,  seeing  it,  know 
how  to  steer,  to  take  the  roads,  to  clear  the  bar,  to 
beware  the  reef,  and  bring  their  bark  in  safety  to  the 
desired  haven.  But  if  Christ  is  a  Saviour  only  in  that 
sense,  simply  because  he  brought  life  and  immortality  to 
light,  then  he  is  not  the  only  Saviour.  From  the  "  Sun 
of  Righteousness  "  he  changes  into  a  star,  and  in  that 
heaven,  where  he  shone  without  a  rival,  he  takes  his 
place  but  among  the  luminaries  of  the  church;  one  of 
many,  he  is  only  a  pure  and  bright  and  beautiful  star 
in  that  brilliant  constellation,  which  is  formed  of  Moses, 
the  prophets,  those  seers  and  sages  and  Inspired  apostles, 
by  whose  voices  and  pens,  in  the  days  of  old,  God  com- 
municated his  will  to  man. 

Many  of  those,  indeed,  who  were  inspired  to  reveal 
the  will  of  God  for  the  salvation  of  men,  had  more  to  do 
instrumentally  in  revealing  that  will  than  Jesus  Christ. 
No  book  bears  his  name.  He  wrote  no  epistle ;  and 
the  truths  that  actually  dropt  from  his  lips,  so  far  as  they 
are  recorded,  form  but  an  insignificant  portion  of  those 
Holy  Scriptures  which  are  our  chart  and  charter.  Yet 
who  but  he  is  set  forth  as  the  Redeemer  and  Saviour 
of  sinners?  Where  is  Moses  represented  as  such? 
or  David?  or  Isaiah?  or  Paul?  Where  is  it  said, 
Believe  on  Paul,  and  thou  shalt  be  saved ;  whoso- 
ever believeth  on  Paul  or  Peter,  hath  everlasting  life, 
and  shall  never  perish  ?     Nevertheless,  compared  with 


CHRIST  THE  REDEEMER.  153 

our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  see  how  much  Paul  did  in 
actually  revealing  the  will  of  God  to  men.  Jesus 
preached  three  years;  but  Paul  thirty.  Jesus  preached 
only  to  Jews ;  but  Paul  to  Jew,  and  Greek,  and 
Roman,  Parthian,  Scythian,  barbarian,  bond  and  free. 
Jesus  numbered  his  converts  by  hundreds ;  Paul  his  by 
thousands.  Jesus  confined  his  labours  to  the  narrow 
limits  of  Palestine  ;  Paul  overleaped  all  such  bounds  ;  he 
took  the  wide  earth  for  his  field,  and,  flying  as  on  angel's 
wings,  he  preached  the  Gospel  alike  to  the  bearded 
Jew,  the  barbarians  of  Melita,  the  philosophers  of  Athens, 
and  in  the  streets  and  palaces  of  Rome  to  the  conquerors 
of  the  world.  Yet  look  at  this  great  apostle ;  he  lies 
as  low  at  Jesus'  feet  as  the  woman  who  washed  them 
with  her  tears,  arid  wiped  them  with  the  hairs  of  her 
head.  He  wore  chains  for  Christ,  and  gloried  in  them  ; 
nor  was  ever  queen  so  proud  of  her  diamond  coronet, 
nor  man  in  office  of  his  chain  of  gold,  as  he  of  the  iron 
manacles  he  wore  for  Christ,  and  boldly  shook  in  the  face 
of  kings.  To  serve  the  cause  of  Jesus  he  could  submit  to 
be  beaten,  and  scourged,  and  starved,  and  stoned,  and 
cast  at  Ephesus  to  hungry  lions  ;  but  one  thing  he 
could  not  bear — grief  and  horror  seize  him  when  he 
finds  himself  set  on  a  level  with  his  master.  To  a 
divided  church,  rent  by  factions  and  full  of  partisanship, 
where  one  is  crying,  I  am  of  Paul,  and  another,  I  am  of 
Apollos,  and  a  third,  I  am  of  Cephas,  and  a  fourth,  I 
am  of  Christ,  he  turns  round  with  indignation  to  ask— 
"  Is  Christ  divided  ?  was  Paul  crucified  for  you  ?  or 
were  ye  baptized  in  the  name  of  Paul  ?"     In  whatever 


154  CHRIST  THE  REDEEMER. 

others  may  glory,  he  ascribes  all  the  glory  of  redemption 
to  the  cross  of  Christ ;  and,  rebuking  that  party  spirit 
and  respect  for  human  authority  which  is  still  too 
prevalent  among  us,  he  exclaims — "  God  forbid  that  I 
should  glory,  save  in  the  cross  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 

2.  Our   Lord  does  not   redeem   us,   as  some  say, 
simply  by  his  example. 

That  man  is,  in  a  sense,  my  saviour,  who  leads 
me  safely  along  any  dangerous  path.  The  brave 
guide,  for  instance,  who,  high  up  on  the  beetling 
precipice,  appears  to  shuddering  spectators  below  like 
an  insect  creeping  along  its  face,  who  now  plants  the 
point  of  his  foot  in  that  crevice,  now  poises  himself 
on  that  rocking  stone,  now,  laying  strong  hand  on  a 
friendly  root,  with  a  thousand  feet  beneath,  swings  him- 
self round  this  dangerous  corner,  now,  with  arms 
stretched  out,  and  with  more  than  a  lover's  eagerness, 
embraces  the  rock,  and  now  steps  lightly  along  the 
fallen  tree  that  bridges  the  fearful  chasm,  and  so,  going 
before,  shows  me  where  to  turn,  and  what  to  hold  by, 
I  regard — and  on  looking  back  at  that  tremendous  path, 
and  horrible  abyss — regard  with  gratitude  as  my  saviour. 
But  for  him,  I  had  never  achieved  the  passage  ;  my  body 
had  been  mangled,  and  my  unburied  bones  left  to  bleach 
in  the  depths  of  that  dark  ravine. 

And  in  a  corresponding  way,  according  to  some, 
our  Lord  redeemed  us.  He  set  us  such  an  example  of 
every  virtue,  of  patient  endurance,  of  living,  suffering, 
dying,  that  we  also,  by  closely  following  his  footsteps,  may 
reach  the  kingdom  of  heaven.     Alas  for  our  safety!  fare- 


CHRIST  THE  REDEEMER.  15/) 


well  to  the  hope  of  heaven,  a  last  forewcll,  if  it  turn 
on  that.  What  a  delusion !  God  knows,  if  it  had  not 
been  for  the  everlasting  arms  that  caught  us  when 
falling,  and  often  raised  us  when  flillen,  and  for  the 
overflowing  love  that  has  pardoned  a  thousand  and  a 
thousand  sins,  I,  and  you,  and  all,  had  perished  long 
ere  now.  We  had  never  stopped  falling,  till,  hke  a  stone 
that,  rolling  down  the  hill-side  and  bounding  from  crag 
to  crag,  at  length,  with  a  sullen  sound,  plunges  into 
the  lake,  we  had  been  lost  in  hell.  Follow  his 
example !  Tread  his  footsteps !  Live  as  he  lived  ! 
Walk  as  he  walked  !  Who  is  suflicient  for  these  thinirs  ? 
No  woman  ever  bore  such  a  son  as  Mary's ;  for  in  him 
a  clean  thing  came  out  of  an  unclean.  Death  has 
darkened  many  a  house  and  church  and  land,  but  never 
extinguished  such  a  light  as  was  quenched  in  blood  on 
Calvary ;  it  was  as  if  he  had  raised  his  arm  and 
plucked,  not  a  star,  but  the  sun  from  heaven.  This 
earth  was  never  trodden  by  such  feet  as  walked  the 
Sea  of  Galilee,  and  were  nailed  upon  the  cross.  Vuv 
more  than  thirty  years  they  trod  earth's  foulest  paths, 
and,  when  heaven  received  him  back,  had  neither  spot 
nor  stain.  And  as  he  lay  dead  three  days  in  a  grave, 
which,  respecting  its  prisoner,  did  not  dare  to  mar  his 
face,  or  touch  him  with  its  corrupting  finger,  so  in  a 
world  that  has  been  the  grave  of  virtue  and  holiness  and 
piety,  he  passed  three-and-thirty  years  amid  corruption 
uncorrupted,  a  friend  to  harlots,  a  guest  of  publicans, 
associated  with  sinners,  yet  sinless,  holy,  harmless, 
undefiled — like  oil  among  water,  separate  from  sinners. 


156  CHRIST  THE  REDEEMER. 

Again,  I  ask,  who  is  sufficient  for  these  things? 
What  man  liveth  and  sinneth  not  ?  Who  has  not  often 
to  cry — "  Hold  up  my  goings  in  thy  paths,  that  my 
footsteps  slip  not;"  and,  when  once  down,  what  stops 
him  from  going  straight  down  to  hell,  but  the  promise, 
which  faith  catches  and  holds  and  hangs  by,  "I  will  heal 
their  backsliding,  and  love  them  freely?"  We  should 
certainly  attempt  always  to  follow  Jesus,  to  walk  as  he 
walked,  to  speak  as  he  spake,  to  think  as  he  thought, 
and  to  mould  our  whole  conduct  and  conversation  on 
the  pattern  that  he  hath  left  us ;  yet  our  best  attempts 
will  leave  us  more  and  more  convinced  that  our  only 
hope  for  redemption,  salvation,  forgiveness,  lies  in  the 
mercy  of  the  Father  and  the  merits  of  the  Son.  Pray 
for  and  make  sure  of  an  interest  in  these,  for  even  after 
we  have  been  made  new  creatures  in  Jesus  Christ,  the 
most  that  we  can  do — nor  that  without  the  aids  of  the 
Holy  Spirit — is  to  creep  along  the  path  w^hich  the 
Saviour  walked,  and  leave  the  mark  of  our  knees  where 
he  left  the  prints  of  his  feet. 

3.  Christ  has  redeemed  us  by  suffering  in  our  room 
and  stead.  Our  ransom  was  his  life,  the  price  of  our 
redemption  his  blood. 

"Without  shedding  of  blood  is  no  remission;" 
"  the  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  cleanseth  us  from  all  sin." 
This  is  the  grand  truth,  the  central  doctrine,  the  culmi- 
nating point  of  the  Gospel.  It  rises  lofty  above  all 
others.  And,  as  some  Alpine  summit,  crowned  with 
snows  and  piercing  the  blue  skies,  rises  up  bright  and 
clear,  to  catch  the  rays  of  the  morning  sun,  and  be 


CHRIST  THE  REDEEMER.  157 


descried  from  a  far  long  distance,  so  the  doctrine  which 
cheers  us,  caught  the  eyes  and  revived  the  hearts  of 
Adam  and  Eve  amid  the  withered  bowers  of  Eden. 
The  promised  seed  was  to  bruise  the  serpent's  head,  and 
that  serpent  was  to  bite  His  heeh  There  was  to  be 
salvation,  but  salvation  through  suffering ;  and,  as  could 
only  be,  salvation  through  the  suffering  of  a  substitute. 
It  was  as  a  substitute  for  sinners  that  Jesus  was  daily 
set  forth  in  the  sacrifices  of  the  Jewish  altar ;  and  to 
one  of  these,  as  very  graphically  exhibiting  the  connec- 
tion between  bloodshed  and  sin  forgiven,  let  me  request 
your  attention. 

The  offering  I  refer  to  was  made  on  the  greatest 
of  all  ceremonial  occasions — the  day  of  atonement.  Two 
young  goats,  kids  of  the  goats,  are  selected  from  the 
flock,  and  presented  before  the  Lord  at  the  door  of  the 
tabernacle.  These  young,  innocent,  spotless  creatures, 
standing  there  in  the  sight  of  the  silent  solemn  multitude, 
are  a  double  type  of  Jesus,  when,  in  the  councils  of  eter- 
nity, he  presented  himself  before  Jehovah,  saying,  "  Lo, 
I  come  (in  the  volume  of  the  book  it  is  written  of  me) 
to  do  thy  will,  0  God."  The  lot  is  cast — one  for  the 
Lord,  the  other  for  the  scapegoat — to  determine  which 
shall  represent  our  Saviour  in  the  act  of  his  death,  and 
which  in  the  fruit  of  his  death,  namely,  the  bearing  away 
of  the  sins  of  the  people.  The  first  falls  as  a  sin  offering. 
The  High  Priest,  having  caught  its  flowing  blood  in  a 
golden  bowl,  enters  within  the  veil,  and,  alone,  sprinkles  it 
upon  and  before  the  mercy-seat.  Coniing  forth,  he  goes 
up  to  the  living  goat ;  standing  over  it,  he  lays  bis  hands 


158  CHRIST  THE  REDEEMER. 

upon  its  head ;  and,  amid  solemn  silence,  confesses  over 
the  dumb  creature  all  the  iniquities,  and  transgres- 
sions, and  sins  of  the  children  of  Israel.  The  prayer 
finished,  that  goat  bears  on  its  devoted  head  the  guilt  of 
the  people  as  it  has  been  ceremonially  transferred 
from  them  to  it  by  these  blood-stained  hands,  and  that 
holy  prayer.  And  now,  observe  the  act  which  fore- 
shadowed how  Jesus,  by  taking  our  sins  upon  him,  bore 
them  all  away.  The  congregation  opens,  the  vast 
crowd  divides,  forming  a  lane  that  stretches  away  right 
from  the  tabernacle  into  the  boundless  desert.  While 
every  lip  is  sealed,  and  every  eye  intent  upon  the  cere- 
mony, a  man  steps  forth — a  "j^^"  man;  and,  taking 
hold  of  the  victim,  he  leads  it  on  and  away  through  the 
parted  crowd.  All  eyes  follow  them.  Amid  the  haze 
of  the  burning  sands  and  distant  horizon,  their  forms 
grow  less  and  less,  and  at  length  vanish  from  the  sight. 
He  and  that  goat  are  now  alone.  They  travel  on  and 
further  on,  till',  removed  beyond  the  reach  of  any  human 
eye,  far  off  in  the  distant  wilderness,  nor  man  nor  house 
in  sight,  he  casts  loose  the  sin-laden  creature.  And  when, 
after  the  lapse  of  hours,  the  people  descry  a  speck  in 
the  extreme  distance,  which  draws  nearer  and  nearer, 
until,  in  a  solitary  man  who  approaches  the  camp,  they 
recognise  the  fit  man  who  had  led  away  the  sin-laden 
victim,  the  people  see,  and  we  in  figure  also  see,  how 
our  Lord,  when  he  was  made  an  offering  for  sin,  took 
the  load  of  our  guilt  upon  him — bearing  it  away,  as  it 
were,  to  a  land  that  was  not  known.     "  As  far  as  the 


CHRIST  THE  REDEEMER.  U)d 


east  is  from  the  west,  so  far  hath  he  removed  our  trans- 
gressions from  us." 

Let  faith  seize  the  reality  of  which  that  ceremony 
was  the  shadow.  Behold  Christ  suffering  for  his  people, 
the  just  for  the  unjust,  that  he  might  bring  us  to 
God!  He  bore  our  sins  away  on  his  head  in  that 
thorny  crown,  and  on  his  shoulder  in  that  heavy  cross ; 
and,  most  of  all,  amid  that  awful  darkness,  when  he  was 
indeed  alone,  and,  cast  off  by  God  as  well  as  man,  his 
heart  broke  in  that  awful  cry,  "  My  God,  my  God,  why 
hast  thou  forsaken  me  ! "  Relieved  thus  from  his  load  ■ 
of  guilt,  knowing  that  all  his  sins  were  then  atoned 
tor,  and,  in  the  witness  of  God's  Spirit  with  his  own, 
possessing  evidence  that  they  are  now  forgiven,  how 
happy  should  the  believer  be  !  Envying  no  man's 
state,  and  coveting  no  man's  goods,  with  God's  peace 
in  our  heart  and  heaven  in  our  eye,  oh,  may  it  be  ours 
to  say  from  sweet  experience,  "  Blessed  is  he  whose 
transgression  is  forgiven,  whose  sin  is  covered." 


THE    IMAGE    OF    GOD. 

Who  is  the  image  of  the  invisible  God. — Colossians  i.  15. 

T  AM  an  old  man,  and  have  never  seen  God,"  said  a 
grey-haired  Indian  to  Sir  John  Franklin,  when 
that  distinguished  traveller  was  pursuing  one  of  his 
earlier  expeditions  into  those  arctic  regions  where  he 
first  won  his  fame,  and  afterwards  found  his  grave. 
From  that  fact  the  old  man  argued  that  there  is  no 
God ;  since,  if  there  were  any  such  being,  he  must  have 
seen  him  sometime,  and  met  him  somewhere,  in  the 
course  of  his  long  life  and  wide  wanderings.  Stupid 
savage !  He  would  not  believe  in  God  because  he  had 
never  seen  him.  Yet  he  believed  in  the  wind,  which  he 
had  never  seen,  as  it  howled  along  the  dreary  waste,  or 
whirled  the  snow-flakes,  or  roared  through  the  pine- 
forest,  or  swept  his  light  canoe  over  foaming  billows,  or 
roused  the  sea  to  burst  its  wintry  chains,  and  float  away 
from  silent  shores  their  fields  and  glittering  bergs  of  ice. 
We  believe  in  many  things  we  never  saw,  on  the 
evidence  of  other  senses  than  that  of  sight.  We  beheve 
in  music ;  in  invisible  voices,  that  roll  their  waves  of 
Bound  upon  the  ear,  and  by  means  of  which  our  spirits, 
shut   up  within   gross  material   forms,  telegraph  their 


THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD.  161 


thoughts  and  hold  intercourse,  one  with  another.  We 
believe  in  invisible  odours — the  fragrance  of  rose  or 
lily,  and  the  sweet-scented  breath  of  a  thousand  other 
flowers.  Nay,  we  believe  in  the  existence  of  what  we 
neither  hear,  nor  see,  nor  taste,  nor  smell,  nor  touch. 
Though  ignorant  of  what  they  are,  and  where  they  are, 
we  believe  in  the  life  that  animates  our  mortal  bodies, 
and  in  the  immortal  spirits  that  inhabit  them.  Thus, 
with  such  knowledge  and  education  as  we  have,  there  is 
no  danger  of  our  falling  into  the  mistake  of  Franklin's 
savage,  or  doing  anything  so  foolish  and  absurd  as  to 
doubt  the  being  of  God  because  his  person  is  invisible. 
Still,  though  that  circumstance  may  not  lead  us  to  deny 
his  existence,  alas  I  how  often  does  it  tempt  us,  the  best 
of  us,  to  forget  it !  And  as  to  the  ungodly,  God  is  not 
in  all  their  thoughts.  "  They  break  in  pieces  thy  people, 
0  Lord,  and  afflict  thine  heritage.  They  slay  the  widow 
and  the  stranger,  and  murder  the  fatherless.  Yet  they 
say,  the  Lord  shall  not  see,  neither  shall  the  God  of  Jacob 
regard  it.  Understand,  ye  brutish  among  the  people  ; 
and  ye  fools,  when  will  ye  be  wise?  He  that  planted 
the  ear  shall  he  not  hear  ?  He  that  formed  the  eye 
shall  he  not  see  ?  Let  me,  therefore,  embrace  the  op- 
portunity which  the  text  presents,  of  dwelling  for  a 
little  on  that  feature  of  the  Divine  Being,  of  which  the 
apostle  speaks,  in  setting  Christ  before  us  as  the  visible 
image  of  an  invisible  God. 


h2 


162  THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD. 


I.  I  would  warn  you  against  allowing  God  to  be  out 
of  mind  because  he  is  out  of  sight. 

This  is  a  fault  to  which  we  are  all  prone,  a  danger 
to  which  our  very  constitution  exposes  us.  Hence  the 
necessity  of  striving,  making  an  earnest  effort  to  "  walk 
by  faith,  not  by  sight."  How  diflScult  an  acquirement ! 
for  we  are  to  a  great  degree  the  creatures  of  sense. 
The  sight  of  some  companion  of  our  boyhood,  from 
whom  many  years  and  wide  seas  have  parted  us,  how 
that  recalls  old  days,  and  rekindles  affections  that 
had  been  slumbering  in  their  ashes  !  We  light  on  a 
letter  written  by  a  kind  hand  long  mouldering  in  the 
dust,  how  that  opens  up  wounds  which  time  seemed  to 
have  healed,  and  renews  forgotten  griefs !  I  have 
known  a  man  far  advanced  in  life,  and  standing,  ripe  for 
heaven,  on  the  edge  of  another  world,  so  moved  by 
the  picture  of  an  early  love,  that,  as  he  gazed  on  it, 
fountains  long  sealed  burst  open ;  and  over  the  youthful 
and  beautiful  image  of  her  whom  the  grave  had  long 
held  for  years  in  its  cold  embraces,  he  bowed  his  grey 
head,  and  wept  and  sobbed  like  a  woman.  And  what 
effect  mere  sight  has  on  other  passions  may  be  seen  in 
the  rout  of  yon  battle-field,  where  the  column  that  has 
stood  the  volleying  shot,  and  faced  the  flashes  of  death 
so  long  as  he  came  i"nvisible  in  a  shower  of  bullets, 
wavers,  staggers,  reels,  breaks,  scatters  like  a  flock  of 
sheep.  The  charge  is  made.  They  cannot  stand  seen 
death — this  line  that,  with  knit  brows,  and  rapid  rush, 


THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD.  163 


and  terrible  cheers,  hurls  itself  on   their   ranks,  their 
gleaming  bayonets  a  horrid  hedge  of  steel. 

And  is  it  not  just  because  we  are  chiefly  affected 
by  the  visible,  that  the  grave  comes  to  be  the  land 
of  forgetfulness  ?  The  dead,  being  out  of  siglit,  are 
jostled  out  of  mind  ;  thrust  off  like  withered  leaves  from 
beech  or  oaken  hedge  by  the  green  growth  of  spring  ; 
buried  in  our  hearts  as  in  their  tombs.  It  may  be 
that  they  are  now  and  then  recalled,  yet  widows  forget 
their  husbands,  and  wear  their  w^eds  sometimes  longer 
than  their  griefs  ;  parents  forget  their  children,  the  liv- 
ing pushing  out  the  dead  ;  and  churches  forget  their 
ministers ;  and  nations  forget  the  patriots  whom  they 
have  entombed  in  marble  and  honoured  with  statues. 
Memory  grows  treacherous.  "  Our  fathers,  where  are 
they?  the  prophets,  do  they  live  for  ever?"  When 
some  great  man  dies  in  church  or  state,  he  falls  like 
a  mass  loosened  from  the  mountain  crag,  which,  bound- 
ing into  the  quiet  lake,  produces  a  great  commotion, 
echoing  among  the  silent  hills,  and  surging  its  waves 
up  along  the  troubled  shore ;  but  how  soon  all  is  quiet 
again  !  He  goes  down,  like  a  stately  ship,  with  colours 
flying  and  sails  all  set ;  and  feu-  a  time  society  is  widely 
affected.  The  event  produces  a  great  impression ;  the 
public  mind  is  agitated  to  its  lowest  depths ;  and,  as  he 
sinks  into  the  grave,  he  draws  men's  thoughts  after  him 
as  that  ship  sucks  in  all  that  floats  nigh  the  whirlpool 
which  she  forms  in  her  descent.  But  it  is  with  him  as 
with  her.  Once  buried  beneath  its  waters,  how  soon 
the  sea  is  still  again,  and  returns  to  its  former  calmness ! 


164  THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD. 


The  grave  closes  over  the  mighty  dead ;  and  new  events 
and  new  persons,  though  they  may  be  much  inferior, 
engross  the  public  attention,  just  as  the  interest  of  men 
comes  to  be  fixed  more  on  the  little  boat  that  floats  its 
living  crew  on  the  placid  waters,  than  on  the  gallant 
ship  that,  with  all  her  guns  and  brave  men,  lies  buried 
in  the  depths  below. 

And  so  it  is  in  religious  things,  in  those  matters 
which  affect  our  eternal  well-being.  What  is  out  of 
sight  is  very  apt  to  be  out  of  mind.  Let  this  teach 
you  to  take  all  the  more  heed  to  live  by  faith  in  the 
invisible.  Consider  how,  with  all  their  glare  and  show, 
things  seen  are  paltry,  passing,  the  least  of  things ;  and 
that  grandeur  and  endurance  belong  to  the  unseen. 
The  soul  is  unseen  ;  precious  jewel  of  immortality,  it  lies 
concealed  within  its  fragile  fleshly  casket.  Hell  and 
heaven  are  unseen ;  the  first  sinks  beneath  our  sight, 
the  second  rises  high  above  it.  The  eternal  world  is 
unseen ;  a  veil  impenetrable  hangs  before  its  mysteries, 
hiding  them  from  the  keenest  eye.  Death  is  unseen ; 
he  strikes  his  blow  in  the  dark.  The  devil  is  unseen — 
stealing  on  us  often  unsuspected,  and  always  invisible. 
And  as  is  our  deadliest  foe,  so  is  our  best  and  trustiest, 
our  heavenly  Friend.  Jesus  is  an  invisible  Saviour ; 
Jehovah  is  an  invisible  God. 

"No  man  hath  seen  God  at  any  time;"  yet  why 
should  that  be  turned  into  a  temptation  to  sin  ?  I 
think  it  should  rather  minister  to  constant  watchfulness 
and  holy  care.  How  solemn  the  thought,  that  an  invi- 
sible being  is  ever  at  our  side,  and,  watching  us,  record- 


THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD.  1G5 


ing  with  rapid  pen  each  deed  and  word,  every  desire 
that  rises,  though  it  be  to  burst  like  an  air-bell,  every 
thought  that  passes,  though  on  an  eagle's  wing.  We 
cannot  shake  off  the  presence  of  God  ;  and  when  doors 
are  shut,  and  curtains  drawn,  and  all  is  still,  and  darkest 
night  fills  our  chamber,  and  we  are  left  alone  to  the 
companionship  of  our  thoughts,  it  might  keep  them  pure 
and  holy  to  say,  as  if  we  saw  two  shining  03^8  looking 
on  us  out  of  the  darkness,  "  Thou,  God,  seest  nie." 
The  world  called  him  mad  who  imagined  that  he  saw 
God's  eye  looking  on  him  out  of  every  star  of  the  sky, 
and  every  flower  of  the  earth,  and  every  leaf  of  the 
forest,  from  the  ground  he  trod  upon,  from  the  walls  of 
his  lonely  chamber,  and  out  of  the  gloomy  depths  of 
night.  Mad  !  It  was  a  blessed  and  holy  fancy.  ^lay 
God  help  you  to  feel  yourselves  at  all  times  more  in  his 
presence  than  you  are  at  any  time  in  that  of  your  fellow- 
men  !  How  promptly  then  would  every  bad  thought 
be  banished :  what  unholy  deeds  be  crushed  in  the 
desire,  nipped  in  the  bud,  strangled  in  the  birth ;  what 
crimes  remain  uncommitted;  how  feeble  would  the 
strongest  temptations  prove ;  what  a  purity,  nobility, 
loftiness,  holiness,  heavenliness,  would  be  imparted  to 
your  whole  bearing  and  conversation  !  There  would 
be  a  dignity  in  the  humblest  Christian's  mien  and  looks, 
such  as  rank  never  wore,  and  courtly  training  never 
bred ;  and  we  should  guard  our  hearts  with  such  a  door 
as  stands  at  the  threshold  of  heaven,  this  written  above 
it  in  the  blood  of  Calvary,  Here  *'  there  shall  in  no 
wise  enter  anything  that  defileth." 


1C6  THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD. 

II.  The  visible  revelations  of  the  Invisible,  which  are 
recorded  in  Old  Testament  history,  were  most 
probably  manifestations  of  the  Son  of  God. 

Out  of  a  number  of  cases  whe^e  God  is  said  to  have 
been  seen,  let  me  select  a  few. 

To-morrow  Esau  and  Jacob  are  to  meet.  There 
was  a  quarrel  of  long  standing  between  them,  which 
had  all  the  bitterness  of  a  domestic  feud.  Jacob  had 
foully  deceived  and  deeply  injured  his  brother.  He  had 
not  seen  Esau  for  many  years,  and,  dreading  his  ven- 
geance, he  now  heard  of  his  approach  at  the  head  of 
four  hundred  men,  with  fear  and  trembling.  Greatly 
alarmed,  he  cried,  God  of  my  father  Abraham,  God  of 
my  father  Isaac,  deliver  me,  I  pray  thee,  from  the  hand 
of  my  brother ;  for  I  fear  him,  lest  he  will  come  and 
smite  me,  the  mother  with  the  children.  Pattern  to 
us  when  temptation  threatens,  or  dark  misfortunes 
lower,  Jacob,  having  done  all  that  man's  wisdom  could 
devise,  or  his  power  could  do  in  the  circumstances,  flies 
f(jr  help  to  God.  He  will  prepare  for  to-morrow's  trial 
by  a  night  of  prayer.  Sending  off  his  wives  and 
children  across  Jabbok's  stream,  to  place  them  as  far  as 
possible  out  of  danger,  and  leave  these  innocent  ones  to 
forget  it  in  sleep's  sweet  oblivion,  he  seeks  himself  a 
solitary  spot.  With  deepest  silence  all  around  him,  and 
the  bright  stars  above  his  head,  he  is  on  his  knees  alone 
with  God.  Suddenly,  as  if  he  had  approached  with  the 
stealth  of  a  creeping  savage,  or  had  sprung  from  out 
the  ground,  some  one  grasps  him.     Folded  in  his  arms, 


THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD.  167 


Jacob  cannot  cast  him  off.  Now  it  becomes  a  struggle 
for  the  mastery.  Locked  together,  they  wrestle  in  the 
dark ;  they  bend ;  they  try  each  to  throw  the  other ; 
and,  in  some  mysterious  commingling  of  bodily  and 
spiritual  wrestling,  the  night  passes,  and  the  conflict 
lasts  till  break  of  day.  Let  me  go,  said  the  other, 
whose  eye  had  caught  the  gleam  of  morning,  for  the 
day  breaketh.  Jacob  but  held  him  faster.  He  had 
found  out  the  other  wrestler ;  danger  gave  him  bold- 
ness ;  faith  gave  him  confidence ;  and;  clinging  to  God 
with  the  grasp  of  a  drowning  man,  he  replied,  I  will 
not  let  thee  go,  except  thou  bless  me.  And  when  he 
had  prevailed,  and  got  the  blessing,  "  Jacob  called  the 
name  of  the  place  Peniel :  for  I  have  seen  God  face  to 
face,  and  my  life  is  preserved." 

Again,  Joshua  and  the  host  are  lying  before  Jericho, 
about  to  commence  the  siege.  To  enjoy  an  hour  of 
quiet  devotion,  undisturbed  by  the  din  and  distraction 
of  the  camp,  or,  perhaps,  like  a  wary  general,  under 
cover  of  the  night,  to  reconnoitre  the  position  of  the 
enemy,  and  find  where  he  might  attack  their  defences 
with  most  success,  Joshua  goes  forth  alone.  And  as, 
advancing  with  bold  yet  cautious  steps,  he  turns  some 
corner  of  the  road,  some  angle  of  the  wall,  he  starts, 
finding  himself  face  to  face  with  an  armed  man.  His 
bravery  is  not  ruffled.  He  thinks  not  of  retreat ;  but 
drawing,  advancing,  and,  perhaps,  pointing  his  sword 
to  the  breast  of  the  unknown,  he  challenges  with  the 
question,  Art  thou  for  us  or  for  our  adversaries?  He 
was  promptly  answered.     Nor  could  the  sword  of  the 


168  THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD. 

other,  gleaming  in  the  moonbeam  and  descending  to 
cleave  his  helmet  and  fell  him  to  the  ground,  have 
brought  Joshua  more  suddenly  to  his  knees  than  that 
answer.  Nay ;  was  the  reply,  but  as  captain  of  the 
host  of  the  Lord  am  I  now  come.  Captain  of  the  host 
of  the  Lord !  No  man ;  no,  nor  angel  this !  God 
himself  commands  in  the  battle.  The  order,  first  issued 
from  amidst  the  flames  of  the  burning  bush,  and  now 
repeated.  Put  thy  shoes  from  off  thy  feet,  for  the  place 
whereon  thou  standest  is  holy  ground,  reveals  God's 
own  presence.  Joshua  worships ;  and  rises — with  what 
heart,  and  hopes,  and  holy  confidence !  And  yet  not 
higher  than  believers  may  venture  to  cherish  in  their 
daily  fight  with  the  devil,  the  world,  and  the  flesh.  The 
Captain  of  your  salvation  mingles  in  that  conflict ;  he  is 
on  your  side ;  and,  as  Joshua  might  have  said  on  his 
return  to  the  host,  you  can  say,  Our  God  shall  fight 
for  us. 

Again,  as  God  assumed  a  visible  form  to  foretell  the 
fall  of  Jericho,  he  did  the  same  to  foretell  the  rise  of 
Samson  —  suiting  his  appearance,  as  he  still  does  his 
grace,  to  the  varied  circumstances  of  his  people.  He, 
who  met  Joshua  as  a  mailed  warrior,  presents  himself 
to  Manoah's  wife  under  a  peaceful  aspect ;  yet  mingUng 
strangely — as  they  were  united  in  our  Lord — the  cha- 
racters of  the  human  and  divine,  his  form  belonged  to 
earth,  but  his  face  shone  with  a  heavenly  glory.  A 
man  of  God  came  unto  me,  she  said  to  her  husband, 
and  his  countenance  was  like  the  countenance  of  an 
an^el  of  God,  very  terrible.      His  tidings  were  strange 


THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD.  1C9 

enough  to  rouse  a  woman's  curiosit}^  yet  awe  struck 
her  dumb,  nor  left  her  a  word  to  say  or  a  question  to 
ask ;  "I  asked  him  not  whence  he  was,  neither  told  he 
me  his  name."  Some  days  thereafter  she  sits  alone 
in  the  field ;  and,  as  she  is  ruminating,  perhaps,  on  an 
event  that  had  deeply  impressed  her  mind,  suddenly  the 
same  form  appears.  She  hastens  homeward ;  tells  her 
husband ;  returns  with  him ;  and  Munoah,  loss  timid 
than  the  woman,  solves  the  mystery  by  bluntly  asking, 
What  is  thy  name  ?  Why  askest  thou  thus  after  my 
name,  was  the  significant  reply,  seeing  it  is  secret? 
That  answer  revealed  at  once,  to  his  great  surprise 
and  awe,  that  he  stood  in  the  august  presence  of  God ; 
nor  could  any  doubt  of  that  remain,  when  this  Being 
of  incommunicable  name,  calling  fire  from  the  rock  to 
consume  their  sacrifice,  leaped  upon  the  altar,  and 
ascended  to  heaven  in  its  flames.  The  first  to  recover 
speech,  so  soon  as  his  tongue  was  unbound,  Manoah 
turns  to  his  wife,  and,  pale  with  terror,  exclaims — "  We 
shall  surely  die,  because  we  have  seen  God.'' 

From  many  cases  of  the  same  character,  let  me 
select  another,  where,  as  I  have  seen,  a  dull  leaden 
cloud  suddenly  changed  by  a  flood  of  sunbeams  into 
living  gold,  the  divine  glory  shines  with  such  bright 
effulgence,  that  the  scene  wears  an  aspect  of  heaven 
more  than  of  earth.  Within  the  holy  temple  Isaiah 
beholds  one  sitting  upon  a  throne,  high  and  lifted  up. 
His  train  fills  the  house.  Not  white-robed  priests,  but 
shining  seraphim  are  his  attendants.  Incense  that  never 
dropped  from  earthly  trees,  but   such   as    you   might 


170  THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD. 

fancy  that  angel  hands  gathered  from  the  trees  that 
dip  their  branches  in  the  river  of  life,  diffuses  celestial 
odours ;  voices,  such  as  they  hear  in  heaven,  and  shep- 
herds heard  in  the  skies  of  Bethlehem,  fill  the  courts 
with  praise,  singing,  in  anticipation  of  gospel  days, 
Holy,  holy,  holy  is  the  Lord  of  hosts :  the  whole 
earth  is  full  of  his  glory.  Nature  herself  acknowledges 
the  presence  of  God — the  earth  trembles,  the  door-posts 
shake,  the  fire  of  the  altar  burns  dim  through  a  cloud 
of  smoke,  and  Isaiah,  overpowered  by  the  awful  glory 
of  the  scene,  falls  prostrate  to  the  ground,  crying — 
Woe  is  me !  for  I  am  undone  :  because  I  am  a  man 
of  unclean  Hps :  and  I  dwell  in  the  midst  of  a  people 
of  unclean  lips :  for  mine  eyes  have  seen  the  hing, 
the  Lord  of  Hosts.  By  such  visible  manifestations  of 
himself,  a  gracious  God,  from  time  to  time,  thus 
comforted  and  encouraged  his  people  in  the  days  of 
old. 

But  on  turning  to  another  page  of  the  Bible,  what 
do  we  find  ?  We  find  it  averred  that  "  no  man  hath 
seen  God  at  any  time."  How  are  we  to  reconcile 
that  positive  statement  with  these  plain  facts  ?  There 
is  but  one  way  of  doing  so — namely,  by  regarding 
those  appearances  as  manifestations  of  him  "  who  is 
the  image  of  the  invisible  God."  That  it  was  Christ 
who  appeared  to  Abraham,  Christ  who  wrestled  with 
Jacob,  Christ  who  led  Israel  out  of  Egypt,  and,  by  the 
hands  of  Moses  and  Aaron,  conducted  the  people-  to 
the  promised  land ;  that  it  was  he,  who,  before  he  came 
in  the  flesh,  appeared  in  these  early  ages  of  the  church 


THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD.  171 


as  her  guardian  and  her  God,  is  a  conclusion  which 
Scripture  warrants.  Paul  distinctly  charges  the  host 
in  the  desert  with  having  tempted  Christ.  Neither, 
says  he,  let  us  tempt  Christ,  as  some  of  them  also 
tempted,  and  were  destroyed  of  serpents. 

This  idea  is  in  perfect  harmony  with  other  passages 
in  the  history  of  redemption.  We  know  for  certain 
that  the  fruit  of  our  Lord's  incarnation  was  anticipated. 
The  benefits  of  his  death  were  enjoyed  before  he  died ; 
the  legacies  of  the  wdll  were  paid  before  the  demise  of 
the  testator ;  for  the  saints,  who  lived  in  the  days  that 
preceded  his  advent,  were  received  to  glory,  if  I  may  so 
speak,  upon  his  bond,  his  promise  to  pay.  And  if  the 
fruit  of  his  incarnation  was  thus  anticipated,  w^hy  not 
the  fact  of  it  ?  Viewed  in  this  light,  how  do  these  Old 
Testament  stories  acquire  a  deeper  and  more  enduring 
interest  to  us !  In  the  guide  of  Abraham's  pilgrimage, 
I  see  the  guide  of  my  own.  Jacob's  success  in  wrestling 
imparts  vigour  to  my  prayers.  ^  To  think  that  the  same 
arm  which  rolled  back  the  gates  of  the  sea,  and  stopped 
the  wheels  of  the  sun,  for  us  hung  in  feeble  infancy 
around  a  mother's  neck ;  that  the  same  voice  which 
spake  in  Sinai's  rolling  thunders,  for  us  wailed  feebly 
on  Mary's  bosom,  and  cried  on  the  cross,  I  thirst; 
that  the  same  august  being  who  delivered  the  law  amid 
the  majesty  of  heaven,  for  us  died  to  fulfil  it  an)id  the 
deepest  ignominies  of  earth  ;  that  he  before  whom  Moses 
did  exceedingly  fear  and  quake,  and  Joshua  fell,  and 
the  holy  prophet  fainted,  was  that  very  same  Jesus, 
whose  gentle  manners  won  the  confidence  of  childhood, 


172  THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD. 


and  whose  kind  eye  beamed  forgiveness  on  a  poor, 
frail,  fallen  woman,  as  she  stooped  to  wash  his  feet  with 
tears,  and  wipe  them  with  the  hairs  of  her  head,  these 
things  should  exalt  Jesus  higher  in  our  esteem,  and  en- 
dear him  more  and  more  to  our  hearts.  What  a  com- 
bination of  grandest  majesty,  and  most  gentle  mercy, 
shines  in  this  visible  "Image  of  the  invisible  God!" 
Surely  he  is  worthy  of  your  acceptance,  and  reverence, 
and  love ! 

In  turning  your  attention  now  to  the  person  and 
work  of  him  who  is  "  the  image  of  the  invisible  God," 
let  me  introduce  the  subject  by  remarking, 

III.  That  the  greatness  of  the  worker  corresponds  to 
the  greatness  of  the  work. 

It  is  not  always  so  in  the  providence  of  Him  who 
saves  by  many  or  by  few.  Sometimes"  God  accom- 
plishes the  mightiest  ends  by  the  feeblest  instruments. 
He  hath  made  the  foolish  things  of  the  world  to  con- 
found the  wise,  and  the  weak  things  of  the  world  to  con- 
found the  things  which  are  mighty,  and  out  of  the  mouth 
of  babes  and  sucklings  ordained  strength. 

For  example,  many  of  the  lovely  islands  of  the 
Pacific  are  formed  entirely  of  coral ;  while  others  are 
protected  from  the  violence  of  the  waves  by  a  circular 
rampart  of  the  same  material.  Founded  in  the  depths 
of  ocean,  this  coral  wall  rises  to  the  surface,  where  it 
indicates  its  presence  by  a  long  white  line  of  breakers. 
The  giant  rollers  that  come  in  from  the  sea,  and  threaten 


\ 


THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD.  173 


with  their  foaming  crests  to  sweep  that  island  from  its 
base,  spend  their  strength,  and  dash  their  waters  into 
snowy  foam  against  this  protection-wall.  And  thus,  as 
within  a  charmed  circle,  while  all  without  is  a  tumbling 
ocean,  the  narrow  strip  of  water  that  lies  between  this 
bulwark  and  the  shore  is  calm  as  peace,  reflecting  as  a 
liquid  mirror  the  boats  that  sleep  upon  its  surface,  and 
the  stately  palms  that  fringe  the  beach.  These  stupend- 
ous breakwaters,  that  so  greatly  surpass  in  stability  and 
strength  any  which  our  art  and  science  have  erected,  are 
the  work  of  what  ?  That  God  who  employed  the  hornet 
to  drive  the  Amorite  out  of  Canaan,  has  constructed 
them  by  means  as  insignificant.  They  are  the  masonry 
of  an  insect ;  an  insect  so  small,  that  the  human  eye 
can  hardly  detect  it,  and  so  feeble  that  an  infant's  finger 
could  crush  it.  They  are  built  by  the  *coral  worm. 
And  I  have  been  told  by  those  who  have  seen  these 
emerald  isles,  set  within  their  silver  border,  like  gems 
on  the  ocean's  bosom,  that  the  contrast  is  most  sur- 
prising, between  the  greatness  of  the  work  and  the 
littleness  of  the  worker. 

Turning  from  the  Book  of  Nature,  let  me  now  take 
an  illustration  from  the  Book  of  Revelation.  Look  upon 
this  picture  of  desolation  wrought  on  the  land  of  Israel. 
"  A  day  of  darkness  and  of  gloominess,  a  day  of  clouds 
and  of  thick  darkness,  as  the  morning  spread  upon  the 
mountains ;  a  great  people  and  a  strong  ;  there  hath 
not  been  ever  the  like,  neither  shall  be  any  more  after 
it,  even  to  the  years  of  many  generations.  A  fire  de- 
voureth  before  them  ;  and  behind  them  a  flame  burnetii : 


174  THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD. 

the  land  is  as  the  garden  of  Eden  before  them,  and 
behind  them  a  desolate  wilderness  ;  yea,  and  nothing 
shall  escape  them.  The  appearance  of  them  is  as  the 
appearance  of  horses ;  and  as  horsemen,  so  shall  they 
run.  Like  the  noise  of  chariots  on  the  tops  of  moun- 
tains shall  they  leap,  like  the  noise  of  a  flame  of  fire  that 
devoureth  the  stubble,  as  a  strong  people  set  in  battle 
array.  Before  their  face  the  people  shall  be  much 
pained;  all  faces  shall  gather  blackness.  The  earth 
shall  quake  before  them ;  the  heavens  shall  tremble  ; 
the  sun  and  the  moon  shall  be  dark  ;  and  the  stars  shall 
withdraw  their  shining :  and  the  Lord  shall  utter  his 
voice  before  his  army :  for  his  camp  is  very  great." 

In  answer  to  the  cry  of  innocent  blood,  and  to 
crush  a  horrible  rebellion,  we  covered  the  sea  with  sails, 
and,  summoning  our  soldiers  from  distant  colonies  with 
great  preparations,  and  after  gigantic  efforts,  we  poured 
them  from  crowded  ships  on  the  shores  of  a  revolted 
land.  But  whence  did  God  bring  that  mighty  army, 
described  by  the  prophet  in  such  vivid  colours  ?  Came 
they  from  heaven  ?  Were  its  portals  flung  open,  that 
troops  of  embattled  angels  might  rush  forth  to  avenge 
his  cause?  Or  did  He  summon  the  Assyrian,  the 
Egyptian,  the  Persian,  the  Greek,  the  Roman,  to  pour 
their  armed  hosts  on  a  doomed,  devoted,  guilty  land  ? 
No.  The  earth  quaked,  but  not  beneath  the  tread  of 
armies.  The  sun,  moon,  and  stars,  were  darkened, 
but  not  by  a  cloud  of  angel  wings.  God  summoned 
only  the  locust  from  its  native  marshes,  and  bade  the 
brood  of  worms  carry  desolation  into  the  land.     It  was 


THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD.  176 

summer  yesterday.  The  fields  waved  with  corn,  the 
orchards  were  white  with  almond  blossoms,  the  cluster- 
ing vines  embraced  the  hills,  and  the  forests  were  clad 
in  a  broad  mantle  of  living  green.  The  locust  comes — 
and  it  is  winter.  The  flowers  are  gone,  and  fields  are 
bare,  and  leafless  trees,  as  if  imploring  pity,  lift  their 
naked  arms  to  heaven  ;  and,  bearing  on  it  the  wail  of 
famine,  the  wind,  that  yesterday  breathed  perfumes, 
and  danced  in  joy  over  the  corn,  and  played  and  sung 
among  the  leaves,  now  sweeps  in  howling  blast  over 
utter  devastation.  The  locust  has  executed  its  com- 
mission. It  has  done  God's  work  ;  and  in  that  work 
of  divine  judgment  we  see  again  a  remarkable  contrast 
between  the  greatness  of  the  action  and  the  littleness 
of  the  agent. 

In  his  providence  and  the  government  of  his  people, 
how  often  has  God  produced  great  efiects  by  most  in- 
adequate means?  He  seems  to  do  it  for  the  very 
purpose  of  showing  that,  whatever  be  the  instrument, 
the  work,  of  goodness  or  of  judgment,  is  his  own.  He 
is  a  jealous  God,  and  will  not  give  his  glory  unto 
another.  In  Moses,  for  example,  we  see  one  sprung 
of  the  enslaved  race.  Nor  does  he  crouch  before  their 
tyrant  with  awe  in  his  look,  and  in  his  hand  a  humble 
petition  ;  but  stands  erect  in  Pharaoh's  hall,  and,  stamp- 
ino-  his  foot,  demands  that  his  brethren  be  free.  In 
David  we  see  a  beardless  lad,  attired  in  a  shepherd's 
peaceful  garb,  who  carries  some  rustic  provision  to  his 
brothers  in  the  camp,  and  gazes  around  him  with  the 
keen  curiosity  of  a  peasant  on  all  the  circumstance,  and 


176  THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD. 

pomp,  and  pride  of  war.  Next  day,  where  is  he? 
What  a  change !  Amid  beating  hearts,  a  breathless 
suspense,  eyes  dim  with  anxiety,  that  gentle  boy,  his 
mother's  love,  his  old  father's  care,  is  doing  brave 
battle  with  a  giant  in  the  presence  of  two  great  armies, 
and  plucking  the  laurels  from  Goliah's  brow. 
/  Not,  perhaps,  in  outward  aspect,  but  in  fact  and  / 
truth,  how  marked  the  contrast  between  these  scenes 
and  that  which  salvation  presents !  Redemption  is  a 
great  work,  a  most  glorious  work;  one,  amid  God's 
other  works  and  through  all  past  ages,  without  a  parallel. 
Do  not  despise  it,  or  reject  it,  no,  nor  neglect  it ;  for  j 
how  shall  you  escape  if  you  neglect  this  great  salva- 
tion ?  It  is  of  all  God's  works  the  greatest ;  it  is  his 
"  strange"  work.  That  cross  on  Calvary,  which  mercy 
liaised  for  you,  cost  more  love,  and  labour,  and  wisdom, 
and  skill,  than  all  yon  starry  universe.  With  the  earth 
its  emerald  floor,  its  roof  the  sapphire  firmament,  the 
sun  and  stars  its  pendent  lamps,  its  incense  a  thousand 
fragrant  odours,  its  music  of  many  sounds  and  instru- 
ments the  song  of  groves,  the  murmur  of  the  streams, 
the  voices  of  winged  winds,  the  pealing  thunder,  and 
the  everlasting  roar  of  ocean,  Nature's  is  a  glorious 
temple !  Yet  that  is  a  nobler  temple,  which,  with 
blood-redeemed  saints  for  its  living  stones,  and  God 
and  the  Lamb  for  its  uncreated  lights,  stands  aloft  on 
the  Rock  of  Ages — the  admiration  of  angels  and  the 
glory  of  the  universe.  Earth  wears  on  her  bosom  no 
blossoms  so  white,  and  pure,  and  sweet  of  fragrance,  as 
the  flowers  of  the  garland  on  a  Saviour's  brow !     Is 


THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD.  177 

Magdalene,  is  Manasseh,  is  Saul,  are  a  thousand  and  a 
thousand  others  in  glory  yonder,  a  wonder  to  angels, 
and  an  astonishment  to  themselves?  But  great  as 
is  the  work  begun  on  earth  and  consummated  in  heaven, 
how  much  greater  is  the  worker?  Who  is  this  that 
Cometh  from  Edom,  with  dyed  garments  from  Bozrah  ? 
this  that  is  glorious  in  his  apparel,  travelling  in  the 
greatness  of  his  strength  ?  He  comes ;  hell  flies  his 
presence.  He  appears  ;  all  the  angels  of  God  worship 
him.  He  speaks  ;  the  tempestuous  sea  is  calm.  He 
commands ;  the  grave  gives  up  its  dead.  He  stands 
on  this  sin-smitten  world,  "  in  praises,  doing  wonders  ;" 
the  visible  image  of  an  invisible  God.  Angels  celebrate 
his  advent  and  attend  his  departure — hovering  alike  over 
the  manger  of  Bethlehem  and  the  crest  of  Olivet ;  and 
when  he  has  left  the  grave  to  ascend  the  throne,  hark 
to  the  cry  at  the  gate  of  heaven.  Lift  up  your  heads, 
0  ye  gates ;  and  be  ye  lift  up,  ye  everlasting  doors ; 
and  the  King  of  Glory  shall  come  in.  Within,  they 
ask,  Who  is  this  King  of  Glory?  The  gate  rolls 
open,  and,  greeted  with  shout  and  song,  the  procession 
enters,  as  his  escort  answer,  The  Lord  of  Hosts,  he  is 
the  King  of  Glory.  With  such  honours  and  gladness 
may  he  be  received  into  our  hearts  !  Holy  Spirit,  throw 
open  their  gates !  Jesus  ascend  their  throne !  that,  hold- 
ing Thee  whom  heaven  holds,  w^e  may  have  a  heaven 
within  us  ;  and,  washed  in  thy  blood  and  renewed  by 
thy  Spirit,  may  present  in  ourselves — what  sin  has 
forfeited  but  grace  restores — a  visible  image  of  the  in- 
visible God. 


THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD. 

(Continued.) 
Who  is  the  image  of  the  invisible  God. — Colossians  1. 15. 

T) ESCRIBING  a  tribe  of  pagan  Africans,  Dr.  Living- 
stone says,  Like  most  others,  they  listen  with 
respect  and  attention,  but  when  we  kneel  down  and 
worship  an  unseen  Being,  the  act  and  position  appear 
to  them  so  ridiculous,  that  they  cannot  refrain  from 
bursting  into  uncontrollable  laughter.  Accustomed 
from  our  earliest  childhood  to  worship  the  unseen,  we 
wonder  at  these  merry  savages ;  and  yet,  by  nature 
like  them,  we  are  all  creatures  of  sight  and  sense. 
Hence  our  desire  to  see  any  remarkable  person ;  hence 
the  pleasure  we  take  in  the  portrait  that  embellishes 
the  biography  of  a  great  or  good  man,  or  in  the  statue 
which  preserves  his  features  and  adorns  his  tomb.  Some 
may  call  the  publican^s  a  childish  curiosity.  But  we 
sympathise  with  Zaccheus,  when,  having  heard  that 
Jesus  was  passing,  he  left  the  receipt  of  custom  to 
join  the  throng ;  but,  lost  there,  shot  a-head  of  the 
multitude,  and  climbed  a  friendly  sycamore,  to  catch  a 
passing  glance  at  the  wonder-working  mau.  We  esteem 
it  not  the  least  of  the  blessings  which  shall  be  enjoyed 


THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD.  179 

in  heaven,  that  we  shall  see  Jesus  there ;  see  him  as 
he  is ;  gaze  with  fond,  adoring  love  on  the  very  face 
and  form  which  our  faith  has  so  often  tried  to  fancy, 
and  painters  of  the  greatest  genius  have  utterly  failed 
to  express. 

A  sense  of  guilt  makes  man  afraid  of  God.  Cod- 
science  makes  cowards  of  us  all ;  so  that,  as  Adam  fled 
from  his  presence  to  the  bushes  of  the  garden,  many 
fly  even  from  the  thought  of  him,  in  whom,  but  for  sin, 
they  would  have  lovingly  confided.  But  for  the  fears 
of  guilt,  the  contemplation  of  God's  works  would  kindle 
a  devout  curiosity  to  see  the  hand  they  sprung  from. 
And  when,  so  rapt  in  admiration  as  for  the  time  to 
forget  that  we  are  sinners,  we  gaze  on  the  spangled 
firmament,  or  look  out  on  the  blue  rolling  ocean,  or, 
from  the  peak  of  some  lofty  mountain,  look  over  a 
tumbling  sea  of  hills,  or  down  on  the  glorious  landscape, 
as  in  the  mingled  beauty  of  dark  green-wood,  and  golden 
fields,  and  silver  streams,  and  castle-crowned  summits, 
and  scattered  villages,  and  busy  towns,  it  stretches  away 
to  the  distant  shore,  the  soul  has  some  longing  for  a 
view  of  God  more  palpable  than  it  gets.  We  almost  wish 
that  he  were  not  invisible,  and  enter,  in  some  measure, 
into  the  feelings  of  Moses  on  Mount  Sinai.  The  ever- 
lasting thunderings  were  grand,  vividly  the  lightning 
flashed  and  flickered,  awfully  sublime  were  the  dark 
cloud  and  voices  of  the  mount,  but  they  were  not  God. 
The  heart  craved  for  some  view  of  himself  And  so, 
highest  example  of  perfect  love  casting  out  fear,  with 
the  lightnings  playing  around  him,  and  the  earth  shaking 


180  THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD. 

beneath  his  feet,  bold  man !  he  bowed  his  head,  and  bent 
his  knee,  and  said,  Show  me  thy  glory. 

Being,  as  we  have  already  shown,  so  much  creatures 
of  sight  and  sense,  this  incident  leads  me  to  remark — 

I.  That  God,  as  revealed  visibly  in  Jesus  Christ,  meets 
and  satisfies  one  of  our  strongest  wants. 

Our  Lord's  divinity,  which  is  to  some  like  his 
death,  to  the  Jew  "  a  stumbling-block,"  like  his  resur- 
rection to  the  Greek,  foolishness,  does  not  stagger  my 
faith  in  the  Bible.  On  the  contrary,  Christ's  divine 
nature  strengthens  my  behef  in  its  divine  authority; 
and,  in  the  hght  of  that  doctrine,  the  sacred  volume 
appears  all  the  more  plainly  to  be  both  the  power  of 
God  and  the  wisdom  of  God.  That  doctrine,  as  I 
hope  to  show  you,  goes  to  establish,  not  shake  its 
claims  to  be  devoutly  received  as  a  revelation  from 
heaven. 

"  Thou  shalt  not  make  unto  thee  any  graven  image, 
or  any  likeness  of  anything  that  is  in  heaven  above,  or 
that  is  in  the  earth  beneath,  or  that  is  in  the  water 
under  the  earth  ;  thou  shalt  not  bow  down  thyself  to 
them,  nor  serve  them."  So  runs  the  second  command- 
ment ;  and,  if  I  am  to  judge  from  the  universal  practice 
of  mankind,  there  is  not  one  of  the  ten  commandments 
which  runs  more  counter  to  our  nature.  That  remark 
may  surprise  you.     But  in  proof  of  it— 

1.  Look  at  the  heathen  world. 

For  long  dark  ages  the  whole  earth  was  given  up 


THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD.  181 


to  idolatry,  with  tlio  exception  of  a  single  nation.  The 
Hebrews  stood  alone.  They  worshipped  in  a  temple 
without  an  idol,  and  rejected  the  use  of  images  in 
the  services  of  religion.  Go  back  to  remotest  time. 
Start  from  the  age  either  of  those  old  Assyrians,  whose 
gods  we  have  been  digging  from  the  ruins  of  Nineveh, 
or  of  those  older  Egyptians  whose  mummy  forms,  with 
their  dog  and  hawk-headed  divinities,  lie  entombed  on 
the  banks  of  the  Nile  ;  and,  coming  down  the  course  of 
time  to  the  last-discovered  tribe  of  savages,  we  find  that 
all  nations,  with  scarcely  an  exception,  have  been  idola- 
ters. All  have  clung  to  the  visible,  and  employed 
sensible  representations  of  the  divinity ;  theirs  a  sensuous 
worship,  whether  they  adored  one  or  ten  thousand  gods. 
Nor  is  this  wonderful.  To  fix  the  mind  and  affections 
on  an  invisible  Being  seemed  like  attempting  to  anchor 
a  vessel  on  a  flowing  tide  or  rolling  billows.  These  ofier 
nothing  to  hold  by.  And,  as  a  climbing  plant,  for  lack 
of  a  better  stay,  will  throw  its  arms  around  a  ruined 
wall  or  rotting  tree,  rather  than  want  something  pal- 
pable to  which  their  thoughts  might  cling,  men  have 
worshipped  the  Divine  Being  through  images  of  the 
basest  character  and  most  hideous  forms.  We  gaze  with 
blank  astonishment  on  the  gods  of  many  heathen  races. 
We  ask,  is  it  possible  that  rational  beings  have  bent  the 
knee  to  this  painted  stick,  that,  with  a  bunch  of  feathers 
stuck  on  its  head,  and  two  bits  of  inlaid  pearl-shell  for 
eyes,  presents  but  the  rudest  resemblance  to  the  form 
of  humanity  ?  Not  only  possible  but  certain.  Talk  of 
"  the  dignity  of  our  nature  \ "     How  that  ugly  idol,  with 


182  THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD. 

man  supplicating  its  help  and  trembling  before  its  wrath, 
refutes  the  notion,  and  proclaims  the  fall !  Contrast 
Adam,  erect  in  his  innocence,  and  lifting  up  an  open 
countenance  to  the  heavens,  with  that  dark,  crouching, 
miserable  savage,  who  kneels  to  this  stick.  What  a 
fall  is  there  !  How  is  the  gold  become  dim  ?  how  is 
the  most  fine  gold  changed  ?     Then, 

2.  Look  at  the  evidence  of  this  proneness  to  sensuous 
worship  as  it  appears  in  the  history  of  the  Jews.  Even 
among  Grod's  chosen  people,  how  did  this  propensity  to 
idolatry  constantly  manifest  itself,  just  as  I  have  seen 
broom,  and  furze,  and  heath,  and  such  other  wild  plants 
as  were  natural  to  the  soil,  spring  up  in  cultivated  pas- 
tures— ^ready  to  resume  possession,  should  the  husband- 
man relax  his  efforts  to  keep  them  down  and  root  them 
out?  There  could  be  no  greater  folly  on  the  part  of 
the  Israelites  than  to  venerate  the  gods  of  Egypt.  If 
the  gods  whose  aid  the  Egyptians  invoked  had  been  else 
than  "  vanity,"  the  Hebrews  had  still  been  slaves  ;  and 
yet  so  prone  were  they  to  idolatry,  that  they  set  up  a 
golden  calf  at  the  very  foot  of  Sinai.  Again,  the  grass 
was  hardly  green  on  David's  grave,  when  his  son,  for- 
feiting his  title  of  the  wisest  of  men,  allowed  himself  to 
be  seduced  by  heathen  women  to  lend  his  countenance 
to  idolatry ;  the  abomination  of  Moab  stood  in  front  of 
the  temple,  and  Ashtaroth,  enthroned  on  Olivet,  looked 
down  with  haughty  contempt  on  the  courts  of  Zion. 
Again,  when  the  kingdom  was  broken  up  through  the 
insane  folly  of  Rehoboam,  see  how  the  ten  tribes,  like 
a  bark  parted  from  her  anchors  and  borne  by  a  strong 


THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD.  183 

tide  on  a  fatal  reef,  drifted  on  idolatry.  A  few  years 
suffice  to  engulf  the  whole  nation  into  the  deepest, 
grossest  paganism.  Ere  one  half  century  has  passed, 
Elijah  stands  alone ;  faithful  among  the  faithless ;  he 
only  by  any  public  act  protesting  against  the  universal 
idolatry ;  he  cries,  I,  even  I  only,  am  left.  Thus  rapidly, 
when  abandoned  by  God  to  the  power  of  their  passions, 
do  both  men  and  nations  sink.  As  the  history  of  many 
still  proves,  nothing  is  so  easy  as  the  descent  into 
hell.      Then, 

3.  We  find  evidence  of  this  propensity  to  idolatry 
even  in  the  Christian  church.  We  have  not  to  rake  up 
the  ashes  of  Jewish  history,  nor  disturb  the  graves  of 
ancient  Nimrods  and  Pharaohs,  nor  import  their  rude 
idols  from  Polynesian  shores,  to  prove  the  deep  longing 
that  there  is  in  our  nature  for  a  God  whom  our  senses 
may  embrace.  How  deeply  has  Christianity  herself 
suffered  from  this  cause  ?  Look  to  the  church  of 
Rome  !  Her  temples  are  crowded  with  images.  Fancy 
some  old  Roman,  rising  from  his  grave  on  the  banks  of 
the  Tiber.  Looking  on  the  sensuous  worship  of  modern 
Rome,  the  honours  paid  to  a  doll  decked  out  to  repre- 
sent Christ's  mother — multitudes  prostrate  at  the  feet  of 
stone  apostles — the  incense  and  prayers  offered  to  the 
lifeless  effigy  of  a  man,  here  hanging  in  weakness  on  a 
cross,  or  there  sitting  in  triumph  on  the  globe  where  he 
sways  a  sceptre,  and  treads  a  serpent  beneath  his  feet, 
what  could  he  suppose  but  that  the  "  eternal  city"  had 
changed  her  idols — not  ceased  from  her  idolatry  ;  and, 
by  some  strange  turn  of  fortune,  had  given  to  one  Jesus 


184  THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD. 

the  old  throne  of  Jupiter,  and  assigned  the  crown  which 
Juno  Avore  in  his  days  to  another  queen  of  heaven  ?  In 
that  bestial  form  at  the  foot  of  Sinai,  with  the  shame- 
less, naked,  frantic  crowd  singing  and  dancing  and 
shouting  around  it,  the  scene  which  filled  Moses  with 
great  indignation,  strikes  us  with  great  astonishment. 
How,  we  ask,  with  God  thundering  above  their  heads, 
could  they  fall  into  such  gross  idolatry  ?  And  yet 
have  not  we  stood  astonished  to  see  a  rational  creature 
bending  head  and  knee  to  a  tinselled  image,  amid 
circumstances,  too,  which  made  the  act  appear  pecu- 
liarly surprising  and  degrading  ?  There,  the  worship  of 
a  creature  insulted  the  glory  of  God's  grandest  works ; 
nor  did  Popery  ever  seem  to  us  more  hateful,  more 
dishonouring,  and  more  debasing,  than  amid  scenes 
whose  magnificence  raised  the  soul  to  God,  as  on  eagles' 
wings.  There,  a  blind  leader  of  the  blind,  she  was 
turning  away  the  faith,  and  love,  and  worship  of  his 
creatures  from  him  whose  voice  was  heard  in  the  roar 
of  the  Alpine  cataract,  whose  mighty  hand  w^as  seen  in 
mountains  that  stood  piled  to  heaven,  crowned  with  their 
eternal  snows,  and  of  whose  great  white  throne  of  judg- 
ment one  fancied  they  saw  a  solemn  image  in  that  pure, 
lofty,  majestic,  snowy  dome,  which  glistened  in  sun- 
beams, high  over  mountains  and  valleys  already  wrapped 
in  evening  gloom. 

Now,  in  what  way  are  we  to  account  for  this 
universal  tendency  to  idolatry  ?  It  is  not  enough  to 
call  it  folly.  I  ask,  what  led  to  such  folly,  and  led  all 
men  to  it? — philosophers  with  fools,  the  wisest  with 
the  weakest,  of  the  heathen  ?     It  admits  of  but  one 


THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD.  185 


explanation — the  feelings  from  which  idolatry  springs 
are  deeply  rooted  in  our  nature. 

You  tell  me  that  God  is  invisible,  infinite,  incom- 
prehensible. You  teach  me  that  neither  in  wood,  nor 
stonC;  nor  colours,  nor  even  in  my  mind's  fancy,  may  I 
impart  to  him  form  or  figure  ;  neither  features  to  express 
his  emotions,  nor  hands  to  do  his  work ;  neither  eyes, 
although  they  beam,  nor  a  heart,  although  it  beat  with 
love ;  and  you  warn  me,  moreover,  that,  even  in  imagi- 
nation, to  clothe  the  Divine  Being  in  a  form  the  most 
venerable  and  august,  is  to  be  guilty  of  a  species  of  ido- 
latry. But  it  seems  as  difficult  for  me  to  make  such  a 
being  the  object  of  my  affections,  as  to  grasp  a  sound,  or 
to  detain  a  shadow.  This  heart  craves  something  more 
congenial  to  my  nature,  and  seeks  in  God  a  palpable 
object  for  its  affections  to  cling  to.  That  is  our  want. 
And  now  see  how  that  want  is  met  by  the  gospel,  and 
is  provided  for  by  Him  who  "  knoweth  our  frame,  and 
remembereth  that  we  are  dust." 

Nothing  appears  to  me  more  remarkable  in  provi- 
dence, or  more  clearly  to  attest  the  being  and  attributes 
of  an  all-presiding  God,  than  the  perfect  adaptation  of 
creatures  to  the  circumstances  in  which  they  are  placed. 
See  how  the  summer,  that  brings  back  the  swallows  to 
our  door,  in  myriads  of  insects  produces  their  food ;  how 
those  creatures  that  burrow  in  the  soil  have  bodies  shaped 
like  a  wedge,  and  fore-feet  so  formed  as  to  do  the  work  of 
a  spade ;  how  the  animals  that  inhabit  arctic  climes  are 
wrapped  in  furs,  which  man,  for  the  sake  of  their  warmth, 
is  glad  to  borrow,  and  to  which  God,  for  the  protection 
i  i2 


186  THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD. 


of  their  lives,  has  given  the  colour  of  the  snow; 
how,  furnished  with  hollow  bones  and  downy  feathers, 
birds  are  adapted  to  float  in  an  atmosphere  of  thin 
transparent  air;  and  how  other  creatures,  slow  of 
motion,  and  unarmed  for  battle,  and  thus  helplessly 
exposed  to  their  enemies,  carry  a  strong  castle  on  their 
backs — retiring  within  their  shell,  as  men  into  a  forta- 
hce,  safe  from  all  attack.  The  student  of  nature  thus 
recognises,  with  adoring  wonder,  the  harmony  which 
God  has  established  between  his  creatures  and  their 
circumstances.  Now  the  divinity  of  our  faith  is  not  less 
conspicuous  to  the  believer's  eye,  in  respect  of  its  per- 
fect adaptation  to  the  peculiarities,  or,  if  you  will  call 
them  so,  to  the  infirmities  of  our  nature.  In  his  incar- 
nate Son,  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  God  presents  himself 
to  me  in  a  form  which  meets  my  wants.  The  Infinite 
is  brought  within  the  limits  of  my  narrow  understanding ; 
the  Invisible  is  revealed  to  my  sight ;  I  can  touch  him, 
hear  him,  see  him,  speak  to  him.  In  the  hand  he  holds 
out  to  save  me,  I  have  what  my  own  can  grasp.  In 
that  eye  bent  on  me,  whether  bedewed  with  tears,  or 
beaming  with  affection,  I  see  divine  love  in  a  form  I 
feel,  and  can  understand.  God  addresses  me  in  human 
tones ;  God  stands  before  me  in  the  fashion  of  a  man  ; 
and,  paradox  as  it  appears,  when  I  fall  at  his  feet  to  say 
with  Thomas,  My  Lord  and  my  God,  I  am  an  image- 
worshipper,  yet  no  idolater ;  for  the  Being  before  whom 
I  bend  is  not  a  mere  man,  nor  a  graven  image,  nor  a 
dead  thing,  but  the  living,  loving,  eternal,  "  express 
image  "  of  the  "  invisible  God." 


THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD.  187 


II.   Consider  in  what  sense  Jesus  Christ  is  "  the  image 
of  the  invisible  God." 

This  term,  image,  is  to  be  taken  here  in  its  widest, 
most  comprehensive  sense.  It  means  much  more  than 
a  mere  resemblance ;  it  conveys  the  idea  of  shadow  less 
than  that  of  substance ;  and  is  to  be  understood  in  the 
sense  in  which  Paul  employs  it,  when  he  says  of  the 
Mosaic  institutions — "  The  law  having  a  shadow  of 
good  things  to  come,  and  not  the  very  imaged'  or  sub- 
stance^ "  of  the  things."  An  image  may  be  moulded 
in  clay,  or  cut  in  marble,  or  struck  in  metal,  or  so  formed 
on  the  watery  mirror,  that,  when  blustering  winds  were 
hushed,  and  no  ripple  disturbed  the  lake,  we  have  lain 
over  our  boat  to  see  the  starry  firmament  imaged  in  its 
crystal  depths,  and  wish  it  were  thus  in  our  bosom — a 
heaven  above  repeated  in  a  heaven  below.  Then  there 
are  living  as  well  as  dead  images.  And,  as  a  Christian's 
life,  without  any  occasion  for  his  lips  telling  it,  should 
proclaim  him  to  the  world  a  child  of  God,  so  I  have 
known  an  infant  bear  such  striking  resemblance  to  his 
father,  that  what  his  tongue  could  not  tell,  his  face  did ; 
and  people,  struck  by  the  likeness,  remarked  of  the 
nursling.  He  is  the  very  image  of  his  father.  Such  was 
Adam  in  his  state  of  innocence.  Endowing  him  with 
knowledge,  righteousness,  and  true  holiness,  God  made 
good  his  words,  Let  us  make  man  in  our  image. 

Now  it  may  be  said  that,  as  our  Lord,  like  the  first 
Adam,  was  a  pure  and  holy  creature,  "  hanuless,"  and 
"  undefiled,"  he  is  therefore   called  the  image  of  God. 


188  THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD. 

Yet  that  does  not  exhaust  the  meaning  of  this  term ; 
nor  is  it  at  all  on  that  account  that  Paul  speaks  of  him 
as  "  the  second  Adam,"  but  because,  as  their  represen- 
tative and  federal  head,  Jesus  stood  to  his  people  in  the 
same  covenant  relationship  as  our  first  parent  did  to  all 
his  posterity. 

Nor  have  they  sounded  the  depths,  seen  to  the  bot- 
tom of  this  expression,  who  say  that,  since  our  Lord  was 
endowed  with  power  to  do  the  works  of  God,  to  work 
many  mighty  miracles,  he  might  therefore  be  called  the 
image  of  God.  For  many  others,  both  before  and  after 
him,  were  in  that  seiise  equally  images  of  God.  How 
godlike  was  Moses,  when  he  raised  his  arm  to  heaven,  and 
thunders  rent  the  answering  skies ;  when,  giving  origin 
perhaps  to  the  heathen  legend  of  Neptune  and  his 
trident,  he  waved  his  rod  upon  the  deep,  and,  billow 
rolling  back  from  billow,  the  sea  was  parted  by  his 
power !  What  a  godlike  action  Joshua's  on  that  battle- 
field, when  he  met,  and  where  he  conquered  five  kings  in 
fight !  God  fought  for  him  with  hailstones,  and  he  fought 
for  God  with  swords  ;  and  no  more  than  devils  of  hell 
could  stand  before  us,  did  prayer  always  summon  heaven 
to  our  aid,  could  mortal  men  stand  before  such  onslaught 
— "  Kings  of  armies  did  flee  apace  ;"  that  day  five  crowns 
were  lost.  But,  apparently  a  most  inopportune  event, 
ore  Joshua  has  reaped  the  fruits  of  his  victory,  the  sun, 
emerging  from  the  dark  hail-cloud,  has  sunk  low  in  the 
sky.  His  burning  wheels  touch  the  crest  of  Gibeon,  while 
the  pale  moon,  marshalling  on  the  night  to  protect  the 
flying  enemy,  is  showing  her  face  over  the  valley  of  Ajai on. 


THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD.  189 


Joshua  sees,  that,  as  has  happened  to  other  coiKpierors, 
darkness  will  rob  him  of  the  prize ;  nor  leave  anythin<^ 
more  substantial  in  his  hand  than  a  wreath  of  laurel, 
the  honours  of  the  day.  Inspired  for  the  occasion,  he 
lifts  his  bloody  sword  to  the  heavens,  he  commands  their 
luminaries  to  stop  ;  and  when,  like  high-mettled  coursers 
which,  knowing  their  masters'  hand,  instantly  obey 
the  rein,  the  sun  and  moon  stand  still,  hang  motion- 
less in  the  portentous  sky,  how  grandly  does  he  stand 
there,  a  visible  image  of  God  ?  Yet,  where  is  Joshua, 
or  Moses,  or  Elijah,  or  Paul,  or  Peter,  or  any  of  all  the 
servants  by  whom  Jehovah  wrought  such  wonders  in 
the  days  of  old,  called  an  "  image  of  the  invisilile  God?" 
Where  are  these  men  set  forth  as  mysteries  ?  Where  are 
they  represented  as  "  God  manifest  in  the  flesh?"  Of 
which  of  them  did  God  himself  say.  Let  all  the  angels 
of  God  worship  him  ?  A  Wind  superstition  may  w^orship 
them ;  but  yonder,  where  Moses  bends  the  knee  by  the 
side  of  Mary  Magdalene,  and  Joshua  bows  low  as  Rahab, 
and  Paul  sings  of  the  mercy  that  saved  in  himself  the 
chief  of  sinners,  they  worship  Jesus,  as  in  his  double 
nature  both  God  and  man  ;  a  visible  manifestation  of 
the  Invisible  ;  "  the  only  begotten  of  the  Father  ;  dis- 
tinguished from  all  other  images,  whether  impressed  on 
holy  angels  or  on  sainted  men,  as  "  the  express  image 
of  his  person."  Herein  lies  the  amazing  breadth,  and 
length,  and  depth,  and  height,  of  the  love  of  God ;  for 
you  he  gave  that  imago  to  be  broken — shattered  by  the 
hand  of  death.  Blessed  be  his  name,  lie  died,  the  just 
for  the  unjust,  that  we  might  be  saved. 


190  THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD. 


III.  Let  me  direct  your  attention  to  some  illustrations 
of  this  truth. 

"  Shew  us  the  Father,"  said  Philip  to  our  Lord. 
Had  he  said,  Cleave  me  that  mountain,  divide  this  sea, 
stop  the  sun,  lay  thy  finger  on  the  hands  of  time,  he 
had  asked  nothing  impossible ;  nothing  more  difficult 
for  Jesus  than  saying  to  a  cripple.  Walk,  or  to  the 
dead.  Come  forth.  Yet  impossible  as  was  that  for 
which  Philip  asked,  since  "  no  man  hath  seen  God  at 
any  time,  nor  can  see  him,"  and  strangely  bold  as  was 
his  request,  it  was  followed  by  a  happy  issue.  What 
clear  testimony  does  our  Lord's  reply  bear  both  to  his 
own  divinity  and  to  his  father's  loving,  pitiful,  tender 
nature  !  ''He  that  hath  seen  me,  Philip,"  seen  me  weep- 
ing with  the  living  and  weeping  for  the  dead,  seen  me 
receiving  little  children  into  my  arms  to  bless  them,  seen 
me  inviting  the  weary  to  rest,  pitying  all  human  suflfer- 
ing,  patient  under  the  greatest  wrongs,  encouraging  the 
penitent,  and  ready  to  forgive  the  vilest  sinners,  "  he 
that  hath  seen  me,  hath  seen  the  Father."  In  me,  my 
character  and  works,  you  have  a  living,  visible,  perfect 
"  image  of  the  invisible  God." 

In  selecting  some  of  the  divine  attributes  to  illus- 
trate this,  I  remark — 

1.  In  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  we  see  the  power  of  God. 

An  Arab,  a  wild  son  of  the  desert,  one  more  accus- 
tomed to  fight  than  to  reason,  to  plunder  a  caravan 
than  to  argue  a   cause,  was  asked  by  a  trgiveller  how 


THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD.  191 

he  knew  that  there  was  a  God.  lie  fixed  his  dark- 
eyes  with  a  stare  of  savage  wonder  on  the  man  who 
seemed  to  doubt  the  being  of  God  ;  and  then,  as  he 
was  wont,  when  he  encountered  a  foe,  to  answer  spear 
with  spear,  he  met  that  question  with  another,  How 
do  I  know  whether  it  was  a  man  or  a  camel  that  passed 
my  tent  last  night?  Well  spoken,  child  of  the  desert! 
for  not  more  plainly  do  the  footprints  on  the  sand  reveal 
to  thy  eye  whether  it  was  man  or  camel  that  passed 
thy  tent  in  the  darkness  of  the  night,  than  God's  works 
reveal  his  being  and  power.  They  testify  of  him.  His 
power  has  left  its  footprint  impressed  upon  them  all. 

Now,  whose  footprint  is  that  on  the  ground  there 
before  the  tomb  of  Lazarus  ?  Was  it  God  or  man  that 
passed  that  way,  leaving  strange  evidence  of  his  presence 
in  an  empty  grave  ?  There,  the  revolution  of  time  has 
brought  round  again  the  days  of  Eden ;  for,  unless  it 
be  easier  to  give  life  to  the  dust  of  the  grave  than  to 
the  dust  of  the  ground,  the  spectators  of  that  stupendous 
miracle,  who  stand  transfixed  with  astonishment,  gazing 
on  the  dead  alive,  have  seen  the  arm  of  God  made  bare ; 
and,  from  the  very  lips  that  cried,  Lazarus,  come  forth, 
have  they  heard  the  voice  which  said  of  old,  Let  us 
make  man  in  our  image.  Nay,  a  day  of  older  date 
than  Eden's  has  returned.  To  make  something  out  of 
nothing  is  a  work  more  visibly  stamped  with  divinity 
than  to  make  one  thing  out  of  another — a  living  man 
out  of  lifeless  dust;  and  ere  our  Lord  left  the  world, 
he  was  to  leave  behind  him,  in  an  act,  not  of  forming 
but  of  creating  power,  the  most  visible  footjirint  and 


192  THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD. 

impress  of  the  great  Creator.  The  scene  of  it  may 
be  less  picturesque,  less  striking  to  common  eyes,  than 
when  Jesus  rose  in  the  boat  to  rebuke  the  storm ;  than 
when,  leaving  Galilee's  shore  to  cross  the  lake,  the 
waters  sustained  him,  and  he  walked,  like  a  shadowy 
spirit,  upon  the  heaving  billows ;  than  when  he  stayed 
a  funeral  procession  at  the  gate  of  Nain,  and,  going  up 
to  the  bier,  laid  his  hand  on  the  corpse  of  the  widow's 
son,  and,  changing  death  to  life,  left  him  folding  her  in 
his  fond  embraces ;  yet  our  Lord  never  appeared  more 
the  express  image  of  his  Father,  than  on  yonder  green 
grassy  mountain  side.  The  calmness  of  the  scene,  the 
meanness  of  the  company,  if  you  will  have  it  so,  the 
poverty  of  the  fare,  amid  these  accessories,  that  are 
but  dull  foils  to  the  sparkling  gem,  Jesus  stands  forth 
in  the  glory  of  a  Creator.  At  his  will,  the  bread  multi- 
plies ;  it  grows  in  the  hands  of  disciples ;  five  thousand 
men  are  filled  to  repletion  with  what  had  not  otherwise 
satisfied  five ;  and,  thing  unheard  of  before,  the  frag- 
ments of  narrow  circumstances  and  a  scanty  table  far 
exceed  the  original  provision.  The  materials  of  the 
feast  filled  one  basket,  but  the  fragments  fill  twelve. 
Who  does  not  see  the  day  of  creation  restored  in  that 
banquet?  In  the  author  of  this,  the  greatest  of  all 
his  miracles,  who  does  not  see  "  the  express  image"  of 
him  who  made  things  that  are  out  of  things  that  were 
not,  said  of  matter's  first-born  and  purest  element.  Let 
there  be  hght:  and  there  was  light? 

2.  In  Christ  we  see   the   image   of  a  holy  God. 
Many  years  ago  a  horrible  crime  was  committed  in  a 


THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD.  193 

neighbouring  country.  It  was  determined  that  the 
guilty  man,  whoever  he  might  be,  so  soon  as  he  was 
discovered  and  convicted,  should  die.  He  had  fled  ; 
but  the  eye  of  justice  tracked  him  to  his  hiding-place. 
Dragged  from  it,  he  is  arraigned  at  the  bar  ;  and  fancy, 
if  you  can,  the  feelings  of  his  judge,  when,  in  the  pale, 
trembling,  miserable,  guilty  wretch,  he  recognised  his 
own  son — his  only  son  !  What  an  agonizing  struggle 
now  began  in  that  father's  bosom  !  He  is  torn  between 
the  conflicting  claims  of  nature  and  duty.  The  public 
indignation  against  the  criminal  is  lost  in  pity  for  the 
father,  as  he  sits  there  transfixed  with  horror,  over- 
whelmed with  grief,  while  his  child,  with  clasped  hands 
and  eyes  that  swim  in  tears,  implores  a  father's  pity. 
Duty  bears  nature  down.  He  pronounces  sentence  of 
death  ;  but  in  passing  it  on  his  son,  he  passes  it  on 
himself.  Nature  would  have  her  own.  He  rises  ;  he 
leaves  the  bench ;  he  hastens  home ;  he  lies  down  on 
his  bed ;  nor  ever  rising  from  it,  dies  of  a  broken  heart. 
God  cannot  die ;  yet,  when,  rather  than  his  holy 
law  should  be  broken  with  impunity,  he  gave  up  his 
love  to  bleed,  his  beloved  son  to  die,  a  substitute  for  us, 
oh,  how  did  the  blood  which  dyed  that  cross  dye  his 
law  in  colours  of  the  brightest  holiness !  What  sermon 
like  that  on  the  text,  "  It  is  an  evil  thing  and  bitter, 
that  thou  hast  forsaken  the  Lord  thy  God."  Nor,  as  in 
that  dying  Saviour  hung  high  under  a  frowning  heaven, 
as  beneath  that  bloody  tree,  where  Mary  receives  into 
her  arms  the  dead  body  of  her  son,  and  weeping  women 
in  bitter  anguish  kiss  his  wounded  feet,  is  there  in  hell 


194  THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD. 


or  heaven  a  scene  so  impressively,  awfully  illustrative 
of  the  angels'  anthem,  Holy,  holy,  holy,  Lord  God 
Almighty,  which  was,  and  is,  and  is  to  come. 

3.  In  Christ  we  see  the  image  of  a  God  willing  and 
able  to  save. 

Let  me  take  an  illustration  of  this  from  an  act  of 
salvation  which  he  performed  under  circumstances  of 
the  greatest  difficulty  and  disadvantage.  The  scene  is 
laid  at  the  cross.  Jesus  is  dying  ;  agonising  pains,  the 
shouts  of  the  pitiless  multitude,  their  insulting  mockery, 
and  the  deep  darkness  of  the  hour,  combine  to  disturb 
his  mind.  If  he  can  save  then  and  there,  save  when 
his  hand  is  nailed  to  the  tree,  what  may  he  not  do, 
now  that  he  is  exalted  to  the  right  hand  of  God,  with 
all  power  given  him  in  earth  and  heaven  ?  I  would 
awaken  hope  in  the  bosom  of  despair,  I  would  like  to 
cheer  God's  people,  and  I  would  try  to  encourage  the 
greatest  sinners  to  turn  with  faith  to  this  refuge  of  the 
lost ;  let  us  therefore  draw  near,  and  see  how  his  divine 
ability  to  save,  streaming  like  a  sunbeam  through  a  riven 
cloud,  revealed  him,  even  when  hanging  on  the  cross,  as 
the  adorable  image  of  an  invisible  God.  And  may  the 
Holy  Spirit  bless  the  sight  to  you ! 

It  is  easy  to  save  one  who  has  fallen  into  the  flood 
some  distance  above  the  cataract,  where  the  river,  not 
yet  hurrying  to  the  fall,  flows  placidly  on  its  way. 
But  further  down  the  difficulty  becomes  great,  every 
foot  further  down  the  greater  ;  for  the  current  moves 
with  faster  speed  and  growing  force,  till  at  length  it 
shoots  forward   with   arrowy  flight,   and,  reaching  the 


THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD.  195 

brink,  leaps  headlong  into  a  boiling  gulf.  Now,  away 
among  the  mountains,  I  know  such  a  place,  where  once 
three  shepherds,  brothers,  were  to  leap,  as  they  had  often 
done,  frctm  rock  to  rock,  across  the  narrow  chasm  through 
which  the  swollen  waters  rushed  onward  to  their  fall. 
Bold  mountaineers,  and  looking  with  careless  eye  on  a 
sight  which  had  turned  others  dizzy,  one  bounded  over 
like  a  red  deer ;  another  followed — but,  alas,  his  foot 
slipping  on  the  smoothly  treacherous  ledge,  he  staggered, 
reeled,  and  falling  back,  rolled  over  with  a  sullen  plunge 
into  the  jaws  of  the  abyss.  Quick  as  lightning,  his 
brother  sprang  forward  —  down  to  a  point  where  the 
waters  issue  into  a  more  open  space,  just  above  the  crag 
over  which  they  throw  themselves  into  the  black,  rock- 
girdled,  boiling  cavern.  There,  standing  on  the  verge 
of  death,  he  eyes  the  body  coming  ;  he  bends — his  arm 
is  out — thank  God,  he  has  him  in  his  powerful  grasp. 
Bravely,  brotherly  done  !  Alas  !  it  is  done  in  vain. 
The  third  brother,  sad  spectator  of  the  scene,  saw  him 
swept  from  his  slippery  footing :  and,  in  their  death 
not  divided,  as  of  old  they  had  lain  in  their  childhood, 
locked  in  each  other's  arms  they  went  over,  horribly 
whelmed  in  the  depths  of  the  swirling  pool.  Not  so 
perished  our  elder  Brother,  and  the  thief  he  stretched 
out  his  hand  to  save.  He  plucked  him  from  the  brink 
of  hell ;  he  saved  him  on  the  dizzy  edge  of  the  dreadful 
pit.  Poor  wretch,  ah!  he  hangs  above  the  gulf;  he  is 
half  over ;  just  then  he  turns  a  dying  eye  on  a  dying 
Saviour,  and  utters  but  one  cry  for  help.  The  arm  of 
mercy  seizes  him ;  he  is  saved ;  now  heaven  holds  him 


196  THE  IMAGE  OF  GOD. 

crowned  in  glory  !  What  a  revelation  of  Jesus  as  the 
express  image  of  him  who  has  power  to  save  at  the 
very  uttermost !  What  an  encouragement  to  you, 
though  the  chief  of  sinners,  to  cast  yourselves  at  Jesus' 
feet !  Do  it.  Do  it  now.  May  heaven  help  you  to 
do  it  now  !  Another  moment,  and  you  may  be  beyond 
the  reach  of  mercy.  Another  moment  may  be  a  whole 
eternity  too  late. 


THE  FIRST-BORN. 

The  first-born  of  every  creature. — Colossianb  i.  16. 

nnHOUSANDS  each  night — the  watchman  on  his 
beat,  the  sentinel  on  the  ramparts,  the  seaman  on 
the  heaving  deep,  the  jaded  votaries  of  pleasure  on  their 
return  from  ball  and  revel — walk  beneath  the  spangled 
heavens,  nor  once  raise  their  eyes,  or,  if  they  do,  raise 
not  their  thoughts  to  the  magnificence  of  the  scene. 
And  each  day,  thousands  engrossed  with  the  pursuit  of 
pleasure  or  business,  tread  the  spangled  sward  with  an 
eye  of  no  more  intelligence  than  an  ox — careless  of  the 
beautiful  flowers,  which  with  a  happier,  purer  taste,  the 
little  child  loves  to  gather,  and,  singing  to  her  work, 
weaves  into  garlands  for  her  sunny  brow.  Not  that 
these  persons  are  constitutionally  dead  to  beauty,  or 
devoid  of  intelligence.  Not  that  they  look  on  the  face 
of  nature  with  an  idiot's  vacant  stare,  but  familiarity, 
which  breeds  contempt  in  some  instances,  in  this  has 
bred  indifference.  Behold,  perhaps  one  reason  why, 
though  our  Lord  presented  such  a  glorious  combination 
of  divine  and  human  excellencies,  many  were  insensible 
to  it ;  and  why,  sad  to  think  of  it,  he  found  so  much 
occasion  to  apply  to  himself  the  old  proverb,  A  prophet 


198  THE  FIRST-BORN 


is  not  without  honour  but   in  his  own  country,  and 
among  his  own  kin,  and  in  his  own  house ! 

A  less  pardonable  reason,  however,  may  be  found  for 
this  in  his  case,  as  in  others,  and  found  in  that  envy  to 
which  our  fallen  nature  is  prone.  A  bad,  a  base,  in  every 
way  an  unprofitable  passion,  one  that,  more  than  any 
other,  carries  its  own  punishment  with  it,  and  makes 
those  who  cherish  it  wTetched,  envy  is  its  own  avenger ; 
and  yet,  so  prone  are  many  to  regard  others  with  envy, 
that  a  man  may  feel  assured  that  he  has  begun  to  rise 
in  the  world  so  soon  as  he  hears  the  buzz  of  detractors, 
and  feels  their  poisoned  stings.  This,  indeed,  is  not  a 
bad  test  of  merit,  just  as  we  know  that  to  be  the  finest 
and  the  ripest  fruit  which  bears  the  marks  of  having 
been  attacked  by  wasp,  or  hornet,  or  other  such  winged 
or  wingless  insects.  The  goose,  and  the  sea-gull,  and 
other  common  creatures,  are  left  to  pursue  their  way 
through  the  fields  of  air  without  interruption  or  attack, 
but  I  have  seen,  when  some  noble  bird  appeared,  who 
had  a  wing  to  soar  aloft,  to  cleave  the  clouds,  how  he 
was  harassed  and  hunted  by  a  noisy  crowd,  that  assailed 
him  with  their  voices,  but,  mingling  cunning  with  inso- 
lence, kept  beyond  the  swoop  of  his  pinions,  or  the 
stroke  of  his  talons.  Now,  see  how  Moses,  the  meekest, 
noblest,  most  generous  of  men,  was  envied  by  ambitious 
spirits  among  the  children  of  Israel !  Ye  take  too  much 
upon  you,  they  said  to  him  and  his  brother,  seeing  all 
the  congregation  are  holy,  every  one  of  them,  and  the 
Lord  is  among  them ;  wherefore,  then,  lift  ye  up  your- 
selves above  the  congregation  of  the  Lord  ?     Ay,  and 


THE  FIRST-BOliN.  190 


even  his  own  brother  and  sister  grew  jealous  of  him. 
On  pretence  of  his  having  done  wrong  in  marrying  an 
Ethiopian  woman,  they  who  should  have  supported  the 
brother  to  whom  they  owed  their  position,  most  basely 
and  ungratefully  attempted  to  undermine  his  influence. 
It  was  very  wrong  in  Moses  to  make  this  marriage — to 
enter  into  such  an  unsuitable  alliance ;  so  they  said  to 
the  multitude.  Yet  mere  dust  and  smoke  that,  which 
they  raised  to  cover  their  real  motives  and  base  ends. 
The  envy,  from  whose  evil  eye  no  excellence  is  a  pro- 
tecting charm,  and  which,  rending  asunder  the  most 
sacred  ties,  refuses  to  spare  a  brother,  was  at  the  bottom 
of  their  discontent.  For  while  Aaron  and  Miriam  held 
such  language  to  the  people,  masking  their  selfish  pas- 
sions under  a  fair  pretence  of  patriotism  and  piety,  listen 
to  them  in  their  tent,  how  different  their  language  to 
each  other,  Hath  the  Lord  indeed  spoken  only  by  Moses  ? 
hath  he  not  spoken  also  by  us  ? 

Looking  at  such  cases,  what  else  was  to  be  expected 
from  the  men  of  Nazareth,  a  place  of  proverbially  bad 
repute,  than  that  they  should  grudge  Jesus  his  honours, 
and  hate  him  for  his  success  ?  He  had  emerged  from 
deep  obscurity  into  a  fame  that  filled  every  mouth  with 
his  works,  and  embraced  within  its  widening  circle  all 
the  land.  He  had  become  famous  ;  and  they  had  not. 
It  did  not  matter  that  that  was  not  his  fault.  They  felt 
themselves  grow  less  as  he  grew  greater,  and  they  could 
not  brook  that;  such  as  were  stars  among  them,  or  wished 
to  be  thought  so,  were  bitterly  mortified  to  find  them- 
selves  extinguished   in   the    light    of   this  rising    sni'. 


200  THE  FIRST-BORN. 


Therefore  they  hated  Christ,  giving  him  ground  to 
complain,  A  prophet  is  not  without  honour  but  in  his 
own  country,  and  among  his  own  kin,  and  in  his  own 
house. 

Let  me  turn  your  attention  to  one  occasion  when 
this  feeling,  which  had  been  grumbling  like  a  pent-up 
volcano,  burst  forth  most  insolently,  most  offensively. 
Our  Lord  was  teaching  in  the  synagogue  of  Nazareth — 
teaching  with  that  strange,  wonderful,  divine  wisdom, 
which  in  its  very  dawn,  when  the  child  was  but  twelve 
years  old,  astonished  the  grey  divines  and  subtlest 
lawyers  of  the  temple ;  and  which  not  only  made  unpre- 
judiced hearers  hang  on  his  gracious  lips,  but  com- 
pelled his  enemies  to  confess,  Never  man  spake  like  this 
man.  On  the  occasion  to  which  I  refer,  envy  gnawed, 
like  a  canker-worm,  at  the  heart  of  his  townsmen.  What 
business  had  he  to  reach  an  eminence  they  might  aspire 
to,  but  could  never  attain  ?  Hopeless  of  that,  although 
they  could  not  rise  to  his  height,  they  might  perchance 
pull  him  down  to  their  own  level.  They  will  try. 
And  so,  at  the  close  of  his  discourse,  when  we  might 
have  expected  them  to  praise  God  for  the  wisdom  that 
had  dropped  from  his  lips,  and  to  congratulate  Mary  on 
her  son,  and  their  native  town  on  an  inhabitant  whose 
name  would  render  Nazareth  famous  to  the  latest  ages, 
they  cast  about  for  something  which,  by  detracting  from 
his  glory,  might  gratify  their  spleen.  They  had  nothing 
to  say  against  either  the  matter  or  the  manner  of  the  dis- 
course; both  were  perfect.  Nor  had  they  a  whisper  to 
breathe  against  the  life  and  character  of  the  speaker.     A 


THE  FIKST-BORN.  201 


circumstance  worthy  of  note  I  For  it  is  one  of  the  finest 
testimonies  borne  to  our  Lord's  lofty  and  holy  life,  that 
the  thirty  years  which  he  spent  in  a  small  town  — 
where  leisure  always  abounds,  and  scandal  is  often  rife, 
and  every  man's  character  and  habits  are  discussed  in 
private  circles,  and  dissected  by  many  cutting  tongues — 
did  not  furnish  them  with  tlie  shred  of  an  excuse  for 
whispering  an  ill  word  against  him.  His  Hfe  resembled 
a  polished  mirror,  which  the  foulest  breath  cannot  stain, 
nor  dim  beyond  a  passing  moment.  What  a  noble  tes- 
timony to  Jesus  Christ!  Holy,  harmless,  undefiled, 
separate  from  sinners,  envy  found  no  way  to  vent  its 
malice  and  spit  its  venom  at  him,  but  by  a  taunt  she 
drew  from  his  humble  origin  and  poor  relatives.  As  if  it 
were  not  an  honour  to  rise  above  the  circumstances  of 
our  birth,  as  if  a  man's  ascent  by  one  step  above  his 
original  condition,  fairly,  honestly,  and  honourably  won, 
were  not  more  a  matter  of  just  pride,  than  a  descent 
traced  from  the  proudest  ancestry,  they  said.  Is  not 
this  the  carpenter^  the  son  of  Mary,  the  brother  of 
James,  and  Joses,  and  of  Juda,  and  Simon?  and  are 
not  his  sisters  here  with  us  ? — whence,  then,  hath  this 
man  all  these  things  ? 

Extending  from  his  early  youth  into  the  years  of 
mature  manhood,  there  is  a  great  blank  in  our  Lord's 
history.  Eighteen  years  of  his  life  stand  unaccounted 
for;  and  that  blank,  looking  as  dark  as  the  starless 
regions  of  the  sky,  tradition,  usually  so  fertile  in  in- 
vention, has  not  attempted  to  fill  up.  How  often  have 
I  wondered   and   tried  to  lancv   what  Jesus  did,  and 


202  THE  FIRST-BORN. 


how  he  passed  the  time  between  his  boyhood,  when 
he  vanishes  from  our  sight,  and  his  thirtieth  j^ear, 
when  he  again  appears  upon  the  stage  to  enter  on  his 
public  ministry?  Thanks  to  his  townsmen's  envious 
sneer,  or,  rather,  thanks  to  Him  who  permitted  the 
insult,  and  thus  has  made  the  wrath  of  man  to  praise 
him,  their  insolent  taunt  throws  a  ray  of  light  into  the 
deep  obscurity.  Their  question.  Is  not  this  the  car- 
penter? not,  as  at  another  time,  the  carpenter's  son, 
but  the  carpenter  himself,  suggests  to  us  the  picture  of 
a  humble  home  in  Nazareth,  known  to  the  neighbour- 
hood as  the  carpenter's,  and  under  whose  roof  of  thatch 
Jesus  resided  with  his  mother — in  all  probability  then  a 
widow,  and,  like  many  a  widow  since  then,  cheered  by 
the  love  and  supported  by  the  labours  of  a  dutiful  son. 
I  have  no  doubt  that  holy  angels,  turning  their  wings 
away  from  lordly  mansions  and  the  proud  palaces  of 
kings,  often  hovered  over  that  peaceful  home,  as  still 
they,  who  are  ministering  spirits  sent  forth  to  minister 
for  them  who  shall  be  heirs  of  salvation,  do  over  the 
humblest  abodes  of  piety.  But,  so  far  as  this  world  and 
its  inhabitants  were  concerned,  Jesus  passed  his  days  in 
contented  obscurity,  unnoticed  and  unknown,  save  to 
the  neighbours,  whose  esteem  he  could  not  fail  to  win 
by  his  pure  life,  and  gentle  temper,  and  holy  manners. 
He  was  to  grow  in  favour  with  God  and  man.  All 
Nazareth  regarded  him  as  a  paragon  of  human  virtues, 
and  many  a  mother  pointed  to  Mary's  son  as  the  pattern 
her  own  lads  should  copy. 

How  wonderful  it  is  to  transport  ourselves  back,  in 


THE  FIRST-BORN.  203 


fancy,  some  eighteen  hundred  years,  to  that  small  town  ; 
and  on  asking,  with  the  Greeks,  to  "see  Jesus,"  to  be 
conducted  to  a  humble  dwelling,  where  chips  of  wood, 
and  squared  logs,  and  unbarked  trunks  of  trees  lying 
about,  in  the  oak,  and  olive,  and  cedar,  and  sycamore 
that  had  fallen  to  his  axe,  point  out  "  the  carpenter's." 
By  the  door,  and  under  a  bowering  vine,  which,  trained 
beneath  the  eaves  over  some  rude  trellis- work,  forms  a 
grateful  shade  from  the  noon-day  sun,  a  widow  sits — 
her  fingers  employed  in  weaving,  but  an  expression  in 
her  face  and  eye  which  indicates  a  mind  engaged  in  far 
loftier  objects,  thoughts  deeper,  holier,  stranger,  than  a 
buried  husband,  and  a  widow's  grief.  She  rises,  lifts 
the  latch,  and,  stooping,  we  enter  that  lowly  door ;  and 
there,  bending  to  his  work,  we  isee  the  carpenter — in 
him  the  Son  of  the  Most  High  God !  Time  was,  when 
he  set  his  compass  on  the  deep ;  time  was,  when  he 
stood  and  measured  the  earth ;  and  now,  with  line,  and 
compass,  and  plane,  and  hatchet,  the  sweat  dropping 
from  his  lofty  brow,  he  who  made  heaven  and  earth, 
and  the  sea,  and  all  that  in  them  is,  in  the  guise  of  a 
common  tradesman,  bends  at  a  carpenter's  bench.  How 
low  he  stooped  to  save  us  ! 

The  world  was  once  astonished  to  see  a  king  stoop 
to  such  work.  The  founder  of  the  Russian  empire  left 
his  palace  and  capital,  the  seductive  pleasures  and  all 
the  pomp  of  royalty,  to  acquire  the  art  of  ship-building 
in  the  dockyard  of  a  Dutch  sea-port.  He  learned  it, 
that  he  might  teach  it  to  his  subjects ;  he  became  a 
servant,  that  he  might  be  the  better  master,  and  lay  in 


204  THE  FIRST-BORN. 


Russia  the  foundations  of  a  great  naval  power.  Nor 
has  his  country  been  ungrateful  ;  her  capital,  which 
bears  his  name,  is  adorned  with  a  monument  to  his 
memory,  massive  as  his  mind;  and  she  has  embalmed 
his  deathless  name  in  her  heart  and  in  her  victories. 
Yet,  little  as  many  think  of  Jesus,  lightly  as  they 
esteem  him,  a  far  greater  sight  is  here.  There,  in  a 
king  becoming  a  subject  that  his  subjects  might  find  in 
him  a  king,  there  was  much  for  men ;  but  here,  there 
is  much  both  for  men  and  angels  to  wonder  at,  and 
praise  through  all  eternity.  The  Son  of  God  stoops  to 
toil.  What  an  amazing  scene  !  Henceforth,  let  honest 
labour  feel  itself  ennobled ;  let  no  man,  whatever  rank 
he  has  attained,  blush  for  the  meanness  of  his  origin,  or 
be  ashamed  of  his  father's  trade ;  let  the  sons  of  toil 
lift  their  heads  before  the  overweening  pride  of  birth  or 
wealth,  and  feel  themselves  stand  taller  on  the  earth ; 
let  the  idle  learn  to  do  some  good  in  this  world,  and 
turn  their  brains  and  hands  to  some  useful  purpose ; 
above  all,  there  let  sinners  behold  a  marvellous,  most 
affecting  exhibition  of  the  condescension  and  love  of 
God.  This  carpenter  of  Nazareth  is  He  whom  the 
apostle  calls  "  the  first-born  of  every  creature ;"  and 
"  by  him,"  he  adds,  "  were  all  things  created  that  are 
in  heaven,  and  that  are  in  earth,  visible  and  invisible, 
whether  they  be  thrones,  or  dominions,  or  principalities, 
or  powers  :  all  things  were  created  by  him  and  for  him : 
and  he  is  before  all  things,  and  by  him  all  things  consist." 
Let  us  now  consider  the  meaning  of  this  expression, 
"  the  first-born  of  every  creature,"  and  let  me  shew — 


THE  FIKST-BORN.  205 


I.  What  the  expression  does  not  and  can  not  mean. 

The  first-horn  of  every  creature !  A  strange  ex- 
pression I  and  one  which,  seeming  to  assign  our  Lord  a 
place  among  creatures,  sounds  so  strangely  that,  in 
some  degree  perplexed,  we  are  ready  to  ask  what  the 
apostle  can  mean  by  applying  such  a  questionable  term 
to  the  eternal  Son  of  God?  For,  though  he  honours 
him  wnth  the  foremost  place,  still  he  seems  to  place  him 
in  the  rank  of  creatures. 

Now,  there  are  those  who  say  that  Christ  was  a  mere 
tnan  ;  and  this  expression,  beyond  all  doubt,  cuts  the 
ground  out  from  below  their  feet.  The  first-born  of 
every  creature — these  words,  assigning  to  our  Lord,  at 
the  very  least,  the  highest  place  among  the  highest 
angels,  do  not  leave  the  Socinian  an  inch  of  ground 
to  stand  on.  But  do  they  not,  it  may  be  asked,  seem  to 
countenance  the  Arian  heresy — the  doctrine  of  those 
who  hold  that,  although  the  highest  and  noblest  of  all 
created  things,  our  Lord,  notwithstanding,  is  still  a 
creature  ?  Is  it  so  ?  Have  we  mistaken  his  true  cha- 
racter? Shall  we  find,  in  going  to  glory,  that,  as 
ardent  love  is  prone  to  do,  we  have  exaggerated  his 
excellences  ;  and  that,  while  another  occupies  the  throne 
of  heaven,  Jesus  is  but  the  first  in  her  noble  peerage, 
the  highest  and  oldest  of  her  ancient  nobility?  Even 
as  being  the  first  of  creatures  in  point  of  rank  and  age, 
as  one  who  dwelt  with  God  when  there  was  none  other 
than  himself,  as  one  whose  life  dates  back  beyond  the 


206  THE  FIRST-BORN. 


far  remote  period  when  seas  first  rolled,  and  stars  shone, 
and  angels  sang,  Jesus  were  an  object,  next  to  God  he 
were  the  object  of  our  deepest  interest.  Yet,  if  our 
blessed  Lord  is  only  a  creature,  however  great  his  power, 
exalted  his  rank,  pure  his  nature,  lofty  his  intellect,  and 
incalculable  the  years  of  his  age,  I  cannot  trust  him 
with  my  soul ;  I  cannot  depend  on  him  for  salvation ; 
I  cannot,  dare  not  worship  him,  nor  overleap  this  barrier. 
Thou  shalt  worship  the  Lord  thy  God,  and  him  only 
shalt  thou  serve." 

The  Apostle  John  once  saw  a  strange  sight  in  heaven. 
Yet  if,  as  the  first-born  of  every  creature,  our  Lord  be 
but  a  creature,  nor  hold  divinity  within  a  human 
shrine,  I  undertake  to  show  you  one  yet  more  strange. 
There  appeared,  says  the  apostle,  a  great  wonder  in 
heaven ;  a  woman  clothed  with  the  sun,  and  the  moon 
Tinder  her  feet,  and  upon  her  head  a  crown  of  twelve 
stars  :  and  she  being  with  child,  cried,  travailing  in  birth, 
and  pained  to  be  delivered.  That  in  heaven !  Yet,  if 
Jesus,  though  created  prior  to  all  others,  and  in  rank 
next  therefore  to  God,  is,  after  all,  but  a  creature,  this 
mystic  woman,  so  superbly  clad  and  crowned,  so  strangely 
pregnant  and  pained  in  heaven,  ofiers  no  wonder  so 
inexplicable  as  these  angels  do,  who  worship  at  the 
Saviour's  feet ;  nor  in  that  upper  world,  where  there 
are  neither  births  nor  burials,  do  her  birth-pang  cries 
sound  so  strange  in  my  ears,  as  that  command  from 
the  excellent  majesty.  Let  all  the  angels  of  God  wor- 
ship him.  If  he  is  not  God,  how  can  the  law,  which 
forbids  me  to  worship  any  but  God,  allow  to  angels  what 


THE  FIRST-BORN.  207 


ifc  denies  to  man  ?  Can  that  be  right  in  them  which  is 
wrong  in  ns?  Can  that  be  true  worship  in  lieaven 
which  were  idolatry  on  earth  ?  If  it  be  sin  to  render 
divine  worship  to  a  creature  here,  it  appears  to  me  that 
it  would  be  but  further  wrong,  and  a  deeper  wrong,  an 
aggravation  of  the  sin,  to  worship  one  in  heaven ;  and, 
therefore,  startled  by  an  expression  which  seems  to  rank 
our  Lord  with  creatures,  we  might,  at  the  first  blush  of 
the  thing,  address  Paul  in  the  words  of  the  men  of 
Athens. 

Having  astonished  her  philosophers,  having  preached 
in  Jesus  and  resurrection  from  the  grave  a  doctrine  which 
her  boldest  spirits  had  never  ventured  to  imagine,  ard 
having,  by  news  such  as  these  news-seekers  had  never 
dreamed  of,  thrown  the  city  into  commotion,  they 
hurried  him  away  to  the  Areopagus,  saying.  Thou 
bringest  certain  strange  things  to  our  ears :  we  would 
know  therefore  what  these  things  mean.  We  might  be 
disposed  to  say  the  same  to  Paul.  He  brings  strange 
tidings  to  our  ears — he  calls  Christ  "  the  first-born  of 
creatures."  What  does  he  mean  ?  Well,  what  he 
does  not  mean  is  very  plain  from  the  way  in  which  he 
conjoins  this  verse  with  the  next.  In  the  same  breath, 
and  as  part  of  the  same  sentence,  the  apostle  says  that 
He  created  all  things.  Created  all  things !  But  he 
could  not  create  himself,  and  he  was  therefore  himself 
uncreated  ;  and  Paul  therefore  never  could  mean  to  say 
that  our  Lord,  however  high  might  be  the  rank  assigned 
him,  was  to  be  placed  in  the  rank  of  creatures.  No  man 
inspired  of  God,  no  logician  like  the  apostle,  no  person 


208  THE  FIRST-BORN. 


even  of  common  sense,  could  write,  nor  would  men  of 
ordinary  reason  and  intelligence  believe,  a  thing  so 
absurd  and  self-contradictory  as,  that  anything  could 
create  itself,  or  a  thing  created  possess  creating  power. 
To  create,  to  call  something  out  of  nothing,  be  it  a 
dying  spark  or  a  blazing  sun,  a  dew-drop  cradled  in  a 
lily's  bosom,  or  the  vast  ocean  in  the  hollow  of  God's 
hand,  mole-hill  or  mountain,  the  dancing  motes  of  a 
sunbeam  or  the  rolling  planets  of  a  system,  a  burning 
seraph  or  a  feeble  glow-worm,  one  of  the  ephemera  that 
takes  wing  in  the  morning  and  is  dead  at  night,  or  one 
of  the  angels  that  sang  when  our  Lord  was  born ; 
whatever  be  the  thing  created,  the  power  to  create  is 
God's,  the  act  of  creation  his;  and,  therefore,  since 
Paul  says  that  Jesus  Christ  created  all  things,  he  cannot 
mean  to  depose  our  Lord  from  the  throne  of  divinity, 
and  lower  God's  only  begotten  son  to  the  level  of  a 
created  being. 

IL  Consider  what  this  phrase,  "  the  first-born  of  every 
creature,"  does  mean. 

Eli  trembled  for  the  ark  of  God.  And  dear  as  that 
ark,  which  rash  hands  had  borne  into  the  battle-field,  to 
the  devout,  blind  old  priest,  is  our  Lord's  divinity  to  us. 
The  loss  of  that  broke  his  neck,  the  loss  of  this  would 
break  our  hearts.  But  this  expression  gives  no  cause 
for  anxiety  about  Christ's  honours.  It  does  not  detract 
from,  but  rather  illustrates  his  divinity  ;  and  is  a  figure 
of  speech,  under  which  that  doctrine  lies  as  firm,  solid, 


THE  FIRST-BORN.  209 


immovable,  as  the  living  rock  beneath  the  flush  of  flowers 
u-nd  the  green  sward  that  cover  it.  Paul  has  clothed 
the  doctrine  in  a  Jewish  metaphor,  and  to  understand 
it  aright,  we  must  examine  it,  not  with  Christian,  but 
with  Jewish  eyes.  For  that  purpose,  let  us  study  this 
expression  by  the  light  of  these  two  cases  : — 

Isaac  is  old  and  blind.  He  is  sitting  in  his  tent 
like  a  man  who  is  making  his  will — engaged,  although 
death  was  yet  distant,  in  deathbed  arrangements.  His 
youngest  son,  who  has  passed  himself  off"  for  his  elder 
brother,  and  thereby  stolen  that  brother's  rights,  has 
just  gone  out,  when  Esau,  as  ignorant  as  his  father  of 
the  trick  that  had  been  so  cleverly  but  so  foully  played, 
enters,  saying.  Let  my  father  arise,  and  eat  of  his  son's 
venison,  that  thy  soul  may  bless  me.  The  old  man, 
knowing  that  he  had  already  given  away  the  blessing, 
and  believing  that  he  had  bestowed  it  upon  Esau,  sur- 
prised at  the  request,  says.  Who  art  thou  ?  I  am  thy 
son,  thy  first-born  Esau,  was  the  answer.  It  struck  Isaac 
with  sudden  and  dire  alarm.  Fearful  that  he  had  given 
away  what  he  could  not  recal,  and,  under  the  impression 
that  he  was  the  first-born,  had  conferred  on  another 
rights  belonging  to  Esau,  he  trembled  very  exceedingly, 
and  said,  Who  ?  where  is  he  that  hath  taken  venison, 
and  brought  it  me,  and  I  have  eaten  of  all  before  thou 
camest,  and  have  blessed  him  ?  yea,  and  he  shall  be 
blessed.  Now,  the  truth  flashed  on  Esau,  and,  startling 
the  tents  around,  he  utters  "  a  great  and  exceeding  bitter 
cry."     Unaccustomed  to  tears,  he  wept  like  a  woman  ; 


K  2 


210  THE  FIRST-BORN. 


and  the  calm,  subdued,  but  deep  grief  of  the  good  old 
man  mingled  with  the  wild,  sweeping,  terrible,  impetuous 
torrent  of  Esau's  passions.  But  vain  the  flood  of  grief! 
He  found  no  place  of  repentance,  though  he  sought  it 
carefully  with  tears.  Behold,  said  Isaac,  as  he  spoke 
of  him  who  had  won  the  game,  and  won  it  by  passing 
himself  off  as  the  first-lorn^  I  have  made  him  thy  lord, 
and  all  his  brethren  have  I  given  him  for  servants. 
And  so  you  see  from  this  case,  that  to  be  what  Esau 
really  was,  and  what  Jacob  said  he  was,  to  be  the  first- 
horn,  and  obtain  the  rights  belonging  to  that  condition, 
was,  as  a  matter  of  law  and  order,  to  be  heir  and  lord 
of  all. 

From  the  tent  of  the  patriarch,  turn  now  to  the 
palace  in  Jerusalem.  An  old  man,  worn  out  with  wars 
and  troubles,  fills  the  throne — the  sceptre  shaking  in  his 
palsied  hands.  It  is  necessary  that  Jehoshaphat — for 
this  old  king  is  he — have  a  coadjutor  and  successor ; 
and  in  seven  sons  who  stand  before  him,  we  should 
think  that  he  had  room  for  choice.  What  is  his  decision  ? 
To  the  six  younger  he  gave  great  gifts  of  silver, 
and  of  gold,  and  of  precious  things,  with  fenced  cities  in 
Judah,  but  the  kingdom,  it  is  said,  gave  he  to  Jehoram. 
And  why  ?  What  moved  him  to  that  ?  His  princely 
qualities?  He  had  none.  He  was  a  bloody  monster; 
for  his  father's  ashes  were  hardly  cold,  when  he  mur- 
dered, in  cold  blood,  all  these,  his  brethren.  The  king- 
dom, it  is  said,  gave  he  to  Jehoram  ;  because  he  was 
the  first-horn.      And  there,  again,  you  see,  that  to  be 


THE  FIRST-BORN.  211 


the  first-born,  or  to  get  the  rights  belonging  to  that 
position,  was  to  be  heir  and  lord  of  all. 

Thus,  springing  from  the  customs  of  the  country, 
and  by  long  use  and  wont,  the  expression  ''first-lorn' 
became  among  the  Jews  just  another  word  for  head, 
lord,  sovereign  proprietor  of  all.  Of  this  fact,  let  me 
add,  we  have  a  most  remarkable  example  in  the  lan- 
guage of  some  Jewish  rabbins.  They  have  not  hesi- 
tated to  apply  that  very  term  to  God  himself,  calling 
Jehovah  The  First-Born  of  the  World ;  and  that  in 
honour,  in  deepest  reverence — meaning  thereby  to  exalt 
him  above  all  creatures,  as  prince,  and  king,  and  Lord 
of  all.  See  now,  how  that  which  seemed  at  first  sight 
contrary  to  our  Lord's  divinity,  is  not  only  consistent 
with  it,  but  confirmatory  of  it.  In  pronouncing  him  "  the 
first-born  of  every  creature,"  my  text  exalts  Jesus  above 
all  creatures,  and  crowns  him  divine  Head,  and  Lord,  and 
Sovereign  of  all.  It  proclaims  one  of  his  many  royal 
titles,  and  invests  him  with  the  insignia  of  universal 
empire.  Revealing  the  divine  heights  from  which  he 
descended  to  the  humiliation  of  Calvary,  how  should  it 
endear  him  to  our  hearts,  and  recommend  him  to  our 
glad  and  grateful  acceptance  !  Calvary  grows  in  wonder, 
our  sins  sink  deeper  in  guilt,  and  our  souls  rise  higher 
in  value,  as  we  contemplate  the  glory  from  which  be 
stooped,  to  bow  his  head  in  death  upon  an  ignominious 
cross ;  dying,  as  is  never  to  be  forgotten,  "  the  pro- 
pitiation for  our  sins :  and  not  for  ours  only,  but  also 
for  the  sins  of  the  whole  world." 


212  THE  FIHST-BORN. 


III.  Our  Lord,  as  in  this  sense  ''  the  first-born  of  every 
creature,"  existed  before  all. 

One  day  the  door  of  Egypt's  palace  is  thrown 
open,  and  Joseph  — a  model  of  beautiful  manhood, 
mind  in  his  eagle  eye,  strength  in  his  form,  majesty 
in  his  manner,  and  on  his  countenance  that  lofty  look 
which  bespeaks  high  virtue  and  integrity — enters, 
accompanied  by  his  father.  The  old  man's  step  was 
slow  and  feeble ;  the  old  man's  eyes  were  dim  with 
age ;  a  few  thin  silver  locks  mingled  with  the  snowy 
beard  that  flowed  down  his  breast,  as  he  came  forward 
leaning  on  Joseph's  arm,  and  bending  beneath  the 
weight  of  years.  Struck  by  the  contrast,  and  moved 
to  respect  by  the  patriarch's  venerable  aspect,  Pharaoh 
accosted  him  with  the  question.  How  old  art  thou  ? 

Age  naturally  awakens  our  respect.  ^'  Thou  shalt 
rise  up  before  the  hoary  head,  and  honour  the  face  of 
the  old  man."  That  beautiful  and  divine  command 
touches  a  chord  in  every  heart,  and  sounds  in  harmony 
with  the  best  feelings  of  our  nature ;  and  so  a  Greek 
historian  tells  how,  in  the  pure  and  early  and  most 
virtuous  days  of  the  republic,  if  an  old  man  entered 
the  crowded  assembly,  all  ranks  rose  to  give  room  and 
place  to  him.  Age  throws  such  a  character  of  dignity 
even  over  inanimate  objects,  that  the  spectator  regards 
them  with  a  sort  of  awe  and  veneration.  We  have 
stood  before  the  hoary  and  ivy-mantled  ruin  of  a  bygone 
age  with  deeper  feelings  of  respect  than  ever  touched  us 


THE  FIRST-BORN.  213 

in  the  marble  halls  and  amid  the  gilded  grandeur  of 
modern  palaces ;  nor  did  the  proudest  tree  which  lifted 
its  umbrageous  head  and  towering  form  to  the  skies 
ever  affect  us  with  such  strange  emotions  as  an  old, 
withered,  wasted  trunk  that,  though  hollowed  by  time 
into  a  gnarled  shell,  still  showed  some  green  signs  of  life. 
Nor,  as  we  lingered  beneath  the  shade  of  that  ancient 
yew,  could  we  look  on  such  an  old  tenant  of  the  earth 
without  feelings  of  veneration,  when  we  thought  how 
it  had  been  bathed  by  the  sun  which  shone  upon  the 
cross  of  Calvary,  and  had  stood  white  with  hoar-frost 
that  Christmas  night  on  which  angels  sang  the  birth  of 
our  Saviour  King. 

It  is  a  curious  thing  to  stand  alone  beside  a  swathed, 
dark,  dusty  mummy,  which  some  traveller  has  brought 
from  its  tomb  on  the  banks  of  the  Nile ;  and  to  mark 
with  wonder  how  the  gold-leaf  still  glitters  on  the  nails 
of  the  tapering  fingers,  and  the  raven  hair  still  clings  to 
the  mouldering  skull,  and  how,  with  the  arms  peacefully 
folded  on  the  breast,  and  the  limbs  stretched  out  to 
their  full  extent,  humanity  still  retains  much  of  its  ori- 
ginal form.  But  when  we  think  how  many  centuries 
have  marched  over  that  dead  one's  head  ;  that  in  this 
womanly  figure,  with  the  metal  mirror  still  beside  her, 
in  which  she  had  once  admired  her  departed  charms,  we 
see,  perhaps,  the  wife  of  Joseph,  perhaps  the  royal 
maid,  who,  coming  to  give  her  beauty  to  the  pure  em- 
braces of  the  Nile,  received  the  infant  Moses  in  her 
kind  protecting  arms,  our  wonder  changes  into  a  sort 
of  awe. 


214  THE  FIRST-BOKN. 


Age,  indeed,  heightens  the  grandeur  of  the  grandest 
objects.  The  bald  hoar  mountains  rise  in  dignity,  the 
voice  of  ocean  sounds  more  sublime  on  her  stormy 
shores,  and  starry  heavens  sparkle  with  brighter  splen- 
dour, when  we  think  how  old  they  are ;  how  long  it  is 
since  that  ocean  began  to  roll,  or  these  lamps  of  night 
to  shine.  Yet  these,  the  first  star  that  ever  shone,  nay, 
the  first  angel  that  ever  sang,  are  but  things  of  yester- 
day beside  this  manger,  where,  couched  in  straw  and 
wrapped  in  swaddling  clothes,  a  new-born  babe  is  sleep- 
ing. "  Before  Abraham  was,"  or  these  were,  "  I  am," 
says  Jesus.  His  mother's  maker,  and  his  mother's 
child,  he  formed  the  living  womb  that  gave  him  birth, 
and,  ten  thousand  ages  before  that,  the  dead  rock  that 
gave  him  burial.  A  child,  yet  Almighty  God;  a  son, 
yet  the  everlasting  Father,  his  history  carries  us  back 
into  eternity ;  and  the  dignities  which  he  left,  those 
glories  which  he  veiled,  how  should  they  lead  us  to 
adore  his  transcendent  love,  and  to  kneel  the  lower  at 
his  cross  to  cry,  Jesus !  thy  love  to  me  was  wonderful, 
passing  the  love  of  women.  My  soul  doth  magnify  the 
Lord,  and  my  spirit  hath  rejoiced  in  God  my  Saviour. 


THE    CREATOR. 

For  by  him  were  all  things  created  that  are  in  heaven,  and  that  are  in 
earth,  visible  and  invisible,  whether  they  be  thrones,  or  dominions, 
or  principalities,  or  powers. — Colossians  i.  16. 

A  S  I  read  m}^  text,  it  appears  to  me  plainly  to  assert, 
and  clearly  to  demonstrate,  the  doctrine  of  our 
Lord's  divinity.  Now  the  incarnation  of  God,  more 
than  any  other  truth  in  the  Bible,  is  one  of  pure  reve- 
lation. There  are  many  other  doctrines  there,  of  which 
men,  without  any  aid  from  inspiration,  have  arrived  at 
a  more  or  less  clear  conception  ;  guided  to  the  discovery 
of  them  by  no  other  lights  than  those  of  reason  and  of 
conscience.  Therefore  Paul  says,  "  When  the  Gentiles, 
which  have  not  the  law,  do  by  nature  the  things  con- 
tained in  the  law,  these,  having  not  the  law,  are  a  law 
unto  themselves :  which  show  the  work  of  the  law 
written  in  their  hearts,  their  conscience  also  bearing 
witness,  and  their  thoughts  the  meanwhile  accusing  or 
else  excusing  one  another." 

It  will  make  this  doctrine  stand  out  all  the  more 
prominently  as  that  great  and  sacred  mystery  which 
auojels  desired  to  look  into,  and  at  the  same  time  serve, 


216  THE  CREATOR. 


what   I    think  an   important  purpose   to   direct   your 
attention — 

I.  To  some  of  those  cases  which  illustrate  the  harmony 
between  Natural  Religion  and  our  Christian  faith. 
Such,  for  instance,  is — 

1.  The  doctrine  of  the  being  of  a  God.  I  do  not 
need  to  open  the  Bible  to  learn  that.  It  is  enough 
that  I  open  my  eyes,  and  turn  them  on  that  great 
book  of  nature,  where  it  stands  legibly  written,  clearly 
revealed  in  every  page.  God !  that  word  may  be  read 
in  the  stars  and  on  the  face  of  the  sun ;  it  is  painted 
on  every  flower,  traced  on  every  leaf,  engraven  on 
every  rock ;  it  is  whispered  by  the  winds,  sounded  forth 
by  the  billows  of  ocean,  and  may  be  heard  by  the 
dullest  ear  in  the  long  rolling  thunder.  I  believe  in 
the  existence  of  a  God,  but  not  in  the  existence  of  an 
atheist ;  or  that  any  man  is  so,  who  can  be  considered 
in  his  sound  and  sober  senses.  What  should  we  think 
of  one  who  attempted  to  account  for  any  other  works 
of  beauty  and  evident  design,  as  he  professes  to  do  for 
those  of  God  ?  Here  is  a  classic  temple ;  here  stands 
a  statue,  designed  with  such  taste,  and  executed  with 
such  skill,  that  one  almost  expects  the  marble  to  leap 
from  its  pedestal ;  here  hangs  a  painting  of  some  dead 
beloved  one,  so  life-like  as  to  move  our  tears ;  here,  in 
Iliad,  or  iEneid,  or  Paradise  Lost,  is  a  noble  poem,  full 
of  the  grandest  thoughts,  and  clothed  in  sublimest 
imagery ;  here  is  a  piece  of  most  delicate,  intricate,  and 


THE  CREATOR.  217 


ingenious  mechanism.  Well,  let  a  man  tell  me  gi-avely, 
that  these  were  the  work  of  chance ;  tell  me,  when  I 
ask  who  made  them,  that  nobody  made  them ;  tell  me, 
that  the  arrangement  of  the  letters  in  this  poem,  and 
of  the  colours  in  that  picture,  of  the  features  in  the 
statue,  was  a  matter  of  mere  chance ;  how  I  should 
stare  at  him !  and  conclude,  without  a  moment's  hesi- 
tation, that  I  had  fallen  into  the  company  of  a  raving 
madman  or  of  some  drivelling  idiot.  Turning  away 
from  such  atheistic  ravings  about  the  infinitely  more 
glorious  works  of  God,  with  what  delight  does  reason 
listen,  and  with  what  readiness  does  she  assent,  and  with 
what  distinct  and  hearty  voice  does  she  echo  the  closing 
words  of  the  seraphim's  hymn,  "  the  whole  earth  is  full 
of  his  glory ! " 

2.  Such  also  is  the  doctrine  that  man  is  a  sinner. 
Who  needs  to  open  the  Bible  to  learn  that  ?  It  is 
enough  that  I  open  my  heart ;  or  read  in  the  light  of 
conscience  the  blotted  record  of  my  past  life.  "  I  know 
and  approve  the  better,  and  yet  follow  the  worse,"  was 
the  memorable  saying  of  one  of  the  wisest  heathens ; 
yet  it  did  not  need  any  superlative  wisdom  to  arrive 
at  that  conclusion.  Dr.  Livingstone  tells  us  that  he 
found  the  rudest  tribes  of  Africa,  on  whose  Cimme- 
rian darkness  no  straggling  ray  of  revealed  truth  had 
ever  fallen,  ready  to  admit  that  they  were  sinners. 
Indeed,  they  hold  almost  every  thing  to  be  sin  which, 
as  such,  is  forbidden  in  the  word  of  God.  Nor  is  it 
possible  to  read  his  clear  statements  on  that  subject, 
without  arriving  at  this  very  interesting  and  important 


218  THE  CREATOR. 


conclusion,  that  the  ten  commandments  received  from 
God's  own  hand  by  Moses  on  Mount  Sinai,  are  but  the 
copy  of  a  much  older  law — that  law  which  the  finger  of 
liis  Maker  wrote  on  Adam's  heart,  and  which,  though  sadly 
defaced  by  the  fall,  may  still,  like  the  inscription  on  a 
time-eaten,  moss-grown  stone,  be  traced  on  ours.  See 
how  guilt  reddens  in  the  blush,  and  consciousness  of 
sin  betrays  itself  in  the  downcast  look  of  childhood ! 
Even  when  they  drink  up  iniquity  as  the  ox  drinketh 
up  the  water,  and  wallow  in  sin  as  the  swine  in  the 
mire,  there  is  a  conscience  within  men  that  convicts 
of  guilt  and  warns  of  judgment.  Dethroned,  but  not 
exiled,  she  still  asserts  her  claims,  and  fights  for  her 
kingdom  in  the  soul ;  and,  resuming  the  seat  of  lordly 
judgment,  with  no  more  respect  for  sovereigns  than 
beggars,  she  summons  them  to  her  bar,  and  thunders 
on  their  heads.  Felix  trembles.  Herod  turns  pale, 
dreading  in  Christ  the  apparition  of  the  Baptist ;  while 
Cain,  fleeing  from  his  brother's  grave,  wanders  away 
conscience-stricken  into  the  gloomy  depths  of  the  forest 
and  the  solitudes  of  an  unpeopled  world.  Like  the 
ghost  of  a  murdered  man,  conscience  haunts  the  house 
that  was  once  her  dwelling,  making  her  ominous  voice 
lieard  at  times  even  by  the  most  hardened  in  iniquity. 
In  her  the  rudest  savage  carries  a  God  within  him,  who 
warns  the  guilty,  and  echoes  these  words  of  Scripture, 
Depart  from  evil,  and  do  good.  Stand  in  awe  and  sin 
not. 

3.  Such  also  is  the  doctrine  that  sin  deserves  punish- 
ment.    Hell  is  no  discovery  of  the  Bible.     In  vain  do 


THE  CREATOR.  219 


men  flee  from  Christianity  to  escape  what  their  uneasy 
conscience  feels  to  be  a  painful  doctrine ;  one  which,  in 
their  anxiety  to  lull  conscience  asleep,  they  reject  as  a 
doctrine  of  incredible  horrors.  If  that  is  an  objection 
to  this  book,  it  is  an  equally  valid  objection  to  every 
religious  creed  which  man  ever  held  and  cherished.  A 
great  poet  has  represented  with  great  power  the 
cataracts  and  rivers,  the  rocks  and  glaciers,  the  hurtling 
avalanche  and  rolling  thunders  of  the  Alps,  and  those 
lovely  valleys  where  summer,  attired  in  a  robe  of 
flowers,  seems  sleeping  at  the  feet  of  winter,  as  form- 
ing one  great  choir,  and  with  their  various  voices  all 
proclaiming,  "God;"  but  it  is  not  less  solemn  than 
true,  it  is  no  poetic  fancy,  but  a  plain  striking  fact,  that 
the  voices  of  all  nations,  of  all  tongues,  rude  or  polished, 
have  proclaimed  a  hell.  No  heathen  religion  but  had 
its  hell,  and  warned  its  followers  of  a  place  beyond  the 
grave  where  vice  shall  meet  the  doom  which  it  escaped 
on  earth.  And  in  their  pictures  of  the  damned,  where 
we  see  avarice  forced  to  drink  molten  gold,  and  eternal 
vultures  tearing  at  the  heart  of  lust  and  cruelty,  what, 
again,  is  the  voice  of  nature  but  an  echo  of  words  we  do 
well  to  take  heed  to,  Be  sure  your  sin  will  find  you  out  ? 
4.  Such  also  is  the  doctrine  that  man  cannot  save 
himself.  In  what  country,  or  in  what  age  of  heathenism 
does  man  appear  standing  up  erect  before  his  God, 
demanding  justice  ?  In  none.  All  her  temples  had 
vicarious  sacrifices  and  atoning  altars,  at  which  man  is 
on  his  knees,  a  suppliant  for  the  mercy  of  the  gods. 
The  very  Pagans    had  more  sense  than  some  of  us. 


220  THE  CREATOR. 

Glimmering  as  was  the  light  of  nature,  they  saw  things 
more  dearly  than  to  be  satisfied  with  themselves. 
They  never  believed  that,  through  their  own|f merits, 
they  could  be  their  own  saviours.  Hence  their  costly 
offerings ;  their  hecatombs  of  victims ;  the  painful  and 
horrid  sacrifices  by  which  they  sought  to  propitiate  an 
angry  God.  They  gave  the  fruit  of  their  body  for  the 
sin  of  their  soul ;  and,  to  the  shame  of  those  of  us  who 
will  take  no  trouble  for  salvation,  and  grudge  the 
smallest  tax  for  the  cause  of  Christ,  they  hesitated  at 
nothing  by  which  they  could  hope  to  avert  heaven's 
wrath,  and  win  its  favour.  The  voice  of  that  cromlech 
stone,  which  still  stands  on  our  moors,  the  centre  of  the 
Druids*  grey,  lonely,  mystic  circle,  and  on  whose  sloping 
surface  I  have  traced  the  channel  which,  when  human 
victim.s  lay  bound  on  this  altar,  drained  off  the  blood 
of  beautiful  maiden,  or  grim  captive  of  the  fight — the 
voice  of  those  tears  the  Indian  mother  sheds,  as  she 
plucks  the  sweet  babe  from  her  throbbing  bosom  to  fling 
it  into  the  Jumna  or  Ganges'  sacred  stream — the  voice 
of  those  ruined  temples  which,  silent  now,  once  resounded 
with  the  groans  of  expiring  victims,  what  are  these,  again, 
but  an  imperfect  echo  of  the  words,  Not  by  works  of 
righteousness  which  we  have  done,  but  according  to  his 
mercy  he  saved  us  ? 

5.  Such  also  is  the  doctrine  that  the  soul  survives  the 
stroke  of  death.  Our  spiritual,  ethereal  essence  had  its 
symbol  in  the  heaven-ascending  flame  which  the  heathen 
carved  upon  their  tombs ;  and  their  hopes  of  immorta- 
lity were  expressed,  as  well  by  the  lamp  they  lighted 


THE  CUEATOR.  221 


amid  the  gloom  of  the  sepulchre,  as  by  the  evergreen 
garlands  that  crowned  the  monuments  of  their  dead. 
This  hope  has  been  a  star  that  shone  in  every  sky ;  a 
flower  that  bloomed  in  the  poorest  soil ;  a  flame  that 
burned  in  the  coldestJ)osom.  Immortality  !  that  made 
heroes  of  cowards.  It  imparted  to  weakness  a  giant's 
strength.  It  made  the  courage  of  the  bravest  warrior 
burn  high  in  the  day  of  battle.  It  nerves  yonder 
unbending  savage  to  endure,  without  a  groan  to  gratify 
his  captors  or  disgrace  his  tribe,  the  tortures  of  fire  and 
stake.  Why  do  these  weeping  Greeks  approach  the  dead 
man,  as  he  lies  on  his  bier  for  burial,  and  open  his  mouth 
to  put  in  an  oholus  f  The  coin  is  passage-money  for  the 
surly  ferryman  who  rows  the  ghosts  over  Styx's  stream. 
And  why,  in  that  forest  grave,  around  which  plumed 
and  painted  warriors  stand  unmoved  and  immovable 
as  statues,  do  they  bury,  with  the  body  of  the  Indian 
chief,  his  canoe  and  bow  and  arrows  ?  He  goes  to 
follow  the  chase,  and  hunt  the  deer  in  the  spectre 
land  where  the  Great  Spirit  lives,  and  the  spirits  of  his 
fathers  have  gone  before  him.  How  easy  it  is  to 
trace,  in  these  customs  and  beliefs,  a  sort  of  rude  copy 
of  the  words.  Life  and  immortality,  I  shall  not  die,  but 
live. 

6.  Although  I  cannot  say  that  the  doctrine  of  a 
resurrection  is  to  be  placed  in  the  same  class  with  these 
universal  fixed  beliefs  that  so  remarkably  illustrate  the 
harmony  between  the  sacred  Scriptures  and  the  voice 
of  nature,  yet  may  not  the  hope  of  a  resurrection  have 
sometimes  shot,  like  a  bright  meteor,  across  the  mid- 


222  THE  CREATOR. 


night  darkness  of  heathen  grief?  That  doctrine  did,' 
indeed,  astonish  the  Athenians  ;  and  its  novelty  and 
apparent  absurdity  led  them  to  pronounce  Paul  a  bab- 
bler. And  to  the  eye  of  sense,  no  doubt,  the  tomb 
looks  dark  as  blackest  midnight ;  nor  can  the  fondest 
wishes  detect  a  sign  of  life  slumbering  in  the  cold  ashes' 
of  the  grave.  Yet  may  not  the  feelings  which  prompt 
to  such  tender  care  of  the  lifeless  body,  to  lay  it  out  so 
decently,  to  bury  it  with  funereal  honours,  to  build  it  a 
tomb,  more  keenly  to  resent  dishonour  done  to  the 
relics  of  the  dead  than  any  done  to  the  persons  of  the 
living,  have  suggested  the  idea  of  a  resurrection  ?  Might 
not  grief  have  thus  given  birth  to  the  blissful  thought,^ 
that  after  a  long  night,  the  sun  that  had  set  would  rise 
again  ;  and  that  the  long  winter  would  be  followed  by 
a  spring,  when,  like  the  beautiful  flowers  that  have  hid 
their  heads  in  the  ground,  the  dead  would  leave  their 
graves  to  live  and  bloom  anew  ? 

No  such  truth  might  be  hidden,  as  one  of  the  ancient 
mysteries  in  the  heathen  legends  of  the  Phoenix  that 
sprung  from  its  ashes  into  new  life ;  yet  there  are  things 
in  nature  which  suggest  a  resurrection  of  the  dead.  Such 
is  the  well-known  analogy  presented  by  the  changes 
which  many  creatures  undergo.  The  insect,  at  first  a 
creeping  worm,  crawls  on  the  earth,  its  home  the  ground, 
or  some  humble  plant  or  decaying  matter,  which  feeds 
its  voracious  appetite.  The  time  of  its  first  change 
arrives.  It  weaves  itself  a  shroud;  it  makes  itself  a 
coffin  ;  and  under  the  soil,  in  some  cranny  of  the  wall, 
in  a  convenient  fissure  of  rock  or  tree,  as  in  a  catacomb, 


THE  CREATOR.  223 


it  finds  a  quiet  grave.  There,  shrouded,  and  coffined, 
and  buried,  and  to  all  appearance  dead,  it  lies  till  it« 
appointed  change.  The  hour  arrives.  It  bursts  these 
cerements;  and  a  pure,  winged,  beautiful  creature,  it 
leaves  them,  to  roam  henceforth  in  sunny  skies,  and 
find  its  bed  in  the  soft  bosom,  and  its  food  in  the  nectar 
of  odorous  flowers.  Why  should  not  that  change,  or 
the  analogy  which  Paul  found  also  in  following  ijature, 
have  suggested  to  the  heathen  what  they  illustrate  to 
us — a  resurrection?  He  saw  our  grave  in  the  furrow 
of  the  plough ;  our  burial  in  the  corn  dropped  into  the 
soil ;  our  decay  in  the  change  undergone  by  the  seed ; 
and  our  resurrection,  when,  bursting  its  sheath  and  push- 
ing aside  the  clod,  it  rises  green  and  beautiful,  to  wave 
its  head  in  summer  days,  high  above  the  ground  that 
was  once  its  grave.  That  which  thou  sowest,  he  says, 
is  not  quickened,  except  it  die :  and  that  which  thou 
sowest,  thou  sowest  not  that  body  that  shall  be,  but 
bare  grain,  it  may  chance  of  wheat,  or  of  some  other 
grain.  So  also  is  the  resurrection  of  the  dead.  It  is 
sown  in  corruption  ;  it  is  raised  in  incorruption :  it  is 
sown  in  dishonour ;  it  is  raised  in  glory :  it  is  sown  in 
weakness ;  it  is  raised  in  power :  it  is  sown  a  natural 
body ;  it  is  raised  a  spiritual  body. 

Different,  differing  much  from  these,  the  doctrine  of 
God  incarnate  is  one  which  nature  nowhere  teaches  us ; 
neither  by  analogy,  nor  reason,  nor  intuition,  nor  con- 
science. Our  proofs  of  this  doctrine,  therefore,  must  be 
sought  for  in  Scripture,  and  all  our  ideas  concerning  it 
drawn  thence.     This  mystery,  which  angels  desired  to 


224  THE  CREATOR. 


look  into,  is  one  to  be  approached  with  the  faith  of  a 
little  child  whom  his  father  has  taken  out  beneath  the 
starry  sky,  to  tell  the  wondering  boy  that  these  little, 
bright,  twinkling  lights  are  suns  big  and  blazing  as  our 
own.  A  mystery  this,  to  be  approached  with  the  deep- 
est gratitude  by  those,  whom  to  save  from  unutterable 
woe,  the  great  God  veiled  his  glory,  and  became  a  man 
to  die.  Without  controversy,  great  is  the  mystery  of 
godliness :  God  was  manifest  in  the  flesh,  justified  in 
the  spirit,  seen  of  angels,  preached  unto  the  Gentiles, 
believed  on  in  the  world,  received  up  into  glory. 
Now,  in  illustration  of  this  doctrine  I  remark — 

II.  That  the  word  of  God,  both  here  and  elsewhere, 
attributes  the  work  of  creation  to  Jesus  Christ. 

Our  Lord  has  been  sometimes  connected  with  crea- 
tion more  in  beautiful  fancies  than  by  plain  strong  facts. 
There  is  a  flower,  for  example,  one  of  the  most  complex, 
yet  most  beautiful  in  nature,  which  the  piety  of  other 
days  associated  with  the  sufierings  and  deep  love  of 
Calvary.  In  the  form  and  arrangement  of  its  parts  it 
presents  such  a  remarkable  resemblance  to  the  cross  and 
the  nails  of  our  Lord's  torture,  encircled  by  a  halo  of  floral 
glory,  that,  as  if  it  had  been  originally  made  to  anticipate 
and  afterwards  left  to  commemorate  our  Redeemer's 
sufferings,  it  has  received  the  name  of  the  passion-flower. 
And  I  remember  how,  in  sweet  wooded  dell  or  on  the 
brown  heather  hill,  we  were  wont  to  pull  up  one  of  the 
fern  tribe,  and,  having  cut  its  root  across,  gaze  with 


THE  CREATOR.  225 


boyish  wonder  on  the  initials  of  Jesus  Christ  printed 
there,  black  as  with  ink  on  the  pale  wounded  stem.  Nor 
are  these  the  only  objects  in  nature  that  have  been 
associated  in  some  way  with  our  Lord.  When  the 
mariner,  leaving  our  northern  latitudes,  pushes  south- 
ward to  plough  a  sunnier  ocean,  he  sees  a  starry  cross 
emerging  from  the  deep ;  and  as  his  course  tends  further 
southward,  it  rises  and  continues  to  rise  higher  in  the 
heavens,  till,  when  the  pole-star  has  dipped  beneath  the 
wave,  ho  gazes  with  feelings  of  awe  and  wonder  on  the 
sign  of  salvation  blazing  above  his  head — its  body  and 
arms  formed  of  brilliant  stars. 

In  these  things  a  devout  superstition,  that  loved 
perhaps  more  fondly  than  wisely,  sought  to  gratify  its 
affections.  Nor  do  we  despise,  but  rather  respect  the 
feelings  which  prompted  ancient  piety  even  in  this  way 
to  identify  our  Lord  with  the  wonderful  works  of  God. 
It  is  not,  however,  in  these  devout  and  poetic  fancies 
that  we  either  seek  or  see  our  Lord's  connection  with 
that  kingdom.  But  as,  with  the  genius  that  aspires  to 
immortality,  and  anticipates  the  admiration  of  future 
ages,  the  painter  leaves  his  name  on  a  corner  of  the 
canvas,  so  Inspiration,  dipping  her  pen  in  indelible  truth, 
has  inscribed  the  name  of  Jesus  upon  all  we  see — on 
sun  and  stars,  flower  and  tree,  rock  and  mountain,  the 
unstable  waters  and  the  firm  land ;  and  also  on  what 
we  do  not  see,  nor  shall  till  death  has  removed  the  veil, 
angels  and  spirits,  the  city  and  heavens  of  the  eternal 
world.  This  is  no  matter  of  fancy.  It  is  a  fact.  It 
is  a  blessed  fact.     No  voice  ever  sounded  more  distinctly 


226  THE  CREATOR. 


to  my  ear  than  that  of  revealed  truth,  proclaiming 
Jesus,  Lord  of  all.  How  plainly  is  that  great  truth 
written  on  the  face  of  my  text !  He  who  runs  may 
read  it  there.  And  to  the  same  effect  the  Scriptures 
have  precept  upon  precept,  line  upon  line,  here  a  little 
and  there  a  little.  In  seeking  examples  of  this,  we  are 
embarrassed,  not  by  the  scantiness,  but  by  the  abundance 
of  them.  And  as  two  or  three  competent  and  in  every 
way  credible  witnesses  are  held  in  a  court  of  law  to  be 
worth  as  many  as  would  crowd  the  court-house,  let  me 
adduce  two  or  three  passages  which  ascribe  the  work  of 
creation  to  our  Lord  in  language  plain  as  facts,  and 
clear  as  noonday. 

1.  In  1  Corinthians  viii.  6,  Paul  says,  *'  there  is 
but  one  God,  the  Father,  of  whom  are  all  things,  and 
we  in  him  ;  and  one  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  hy  whom  are 
all  things^  and  we  hy  himr 

2.  In  Ephesians  iii.  9,  Paul  also  says,  "  to  make  all 
men  see  what  is  the  fellowship  of  the  mystery,  which 
from  the  beginning  of  the  world  hath  been  hid  in  God. 
who  created  all  things  hy  Jesus  Christ,^"* 

3.  When  our  Lord  was  on  his  trial,  and  stood  before 
his  judges  and  false  accusers,  as  a  sheep  before  her 
shearers,  he  was  dumb,  opening  not  his  mouth.  He 
heard  them  as  if  he  heard  them  not.  Eager,  yet  afraid 
to  strike,  the  high-priest  at  length  rose  from  his  throne, 
and,  fixing  his  eye  on  the  prisoner,  said,  I  adjure  thee 
by  the  living  God,  that  thou  tell  us  whether  thou  be 
the  Christ,  the  Son  of  God.  Whereupon — the  first 
time  he  broke  silence — our  Saviour  replied,  Thou  hast 


TUE  CREATOR.  227 


said  :  nevertheless  I  say  unto  you,  hereafter  shall  ye 
see  the  Son  of  Man  sitthig  on  the  right  hand  of  po\yer, 
and  coming  in  the  clouds  of  heaven.  Then,  as  we  are 
told,  the  high-priest  rent  his  clothes,  saying,  He  hath 
spoken  blasphemy ;  what  further  need  have  we  of  wit- 
nesses ?  And  now,  in  seeking  to  crown  Christ  with  the 
honours  which  they  there  foully  denied  him,  how  may 
I  borrow  the  last  words  from  that  murderer's  mouth, 
saying,  after  Paul,  in  these  passages  from  Corinthians 
and  from  Ephesians,  has  so  clearly  attributed  the  work 
of  creation  to  Jesus,  What  further  need  have  we  of  wit- 
nesses ?  But  call  in  the  apostle  John.  Ask  him  what 
he  has  to  say  on  this  great  subject,  what  evidence  he 
has  to  give,  what  testimony  he  can  bear?  How  full, 
distinct,  and  clear  his  answer !  Speaking  by  inspiration. 
and  with  his  finger  pointed  at  Christ,  he  says,  "  All 
things  were  made  hy  him  ;  and  without  him  was  not  any- 
thing made  that  was  made.^^  And  thus  he  writes  con- 
cerning the  very  same  person  of  whom,  in  the  same 
chapter,  he  says,  "  The  Word  was  made  flesh,  and  dwelt 
among  us." 

Did  these  holy  men  anticipate,  did  they  foresee  a 
day  when,  walking  in  the  light  of  their  own  fire,  and, 
in  the  sparks  which  they  had  kindled,  presumptuous 
men  would  rise  up  in  the  church  to  deny  the  divinity 
of  our  Lord ;  and,  with  that  precious  doctrine,  to 
deny,  in  course  of  time,  all  the  doctrines  to  which  it 
is  the  key-stone  ?  It  would  seem  so.  Their  anxious 
care  to  make  plain  statements  still  more  plain,  looks 
like  it.     To  make  assurance  doubly  sure,  to  place  our 


228  THE  CREATOR. 


faith  on  a  foundation  secure  against  all  assaults,  I  pray 
you  to  observe  how  the  evangelist  is  not  content  with 
simply  saying  that  all  things  were  made  by  Christ,  but 
adds,  as  if  to  double-lock  the  door  against  the  approach- 
ing heresy,  "  without  Mm  was  not  anything  made  that 
was  madey  Wonderful  news  to  tell  in  a  sinner's  ear ! 
the  stupendous  fabric  of  creation,  yon  starry  vault,  this 
magnificent  world,  were  the  work  of  the  hands  by  which, 
in  love  of  you,  he  hung,  a  mangled  form,  on  the  cross 
of  Calvary  ! 

No  two  harps  out  of  heaven  or  in  it  ever  sounded 
in  more  perfect  harmony  than  the  words  of  John  and 
the  language  of  Paul  in  my  text.  My  text  is  the 
statement  of  John  expanded — the  bud  blown  out  into 
a  flower — the  indestructible  precious  gold  beaten  out 
over  a  broader  surface.  And  see  how  the  same  anxiety 
appears  here  also  that  there  shall  be  no  mistake  !  What 
care  is  taken  of  your  faith !  Paul  would  prevent  the 
shadow  of  a  doubt  crossing  your  mind  about  our  Lord 
having  a  right  to  the  divine  honours  of  Creator !  "By 
him,"  he  says,  "  all  things  were  created.  Did  an  angel, 
standing  at  his  side  when  he  penned  these  words,  stoop 
down,  and  whisper  in  his  ear  that  in  coming  days  men 
would  rise  to  throw  doubt  over  the  truth,  and,  explain- 
ing it  away,  attempt  to  rob  Jesus  of  his  honour  ?  I 
know  not ;  but  to  make  the  truth  still  more  plain,  he 
adds,  "  that  are  in  heaven  and  are  in  earth."  Not  con- 
tent with  that,  he  uses  yet  more  comprehensive  terms, 
and  to  embrace  all  the  regions  of  God's  universe  above 
the  earth,  and  beyond  the  starry  bounds  of  heaven,  he 


THE  CREATOR.  229 


adds,  "  visible  and  invisible."  Nor  leaves  his  noble 
task  till  he  has  swept  the  highest  and  the  lowest  things, 
men  and  worms,  angels  and  insects,  all  into  Christ's 
hand — adding,  "  whether  they  be  thrones,  or  dominions, 
or  principalities,  or  powers." 

Thanks  be  to  God  that  a  doctrine  so  precious  is 
written  in  language  so  plain.  As  soon  may  the  puny 
arm  of  a  mortal  man  pluck  the  sun  from  the  heavens, 
as  pluck  our  Lord's  divinity  out  of  this  text.  Well 
might  dying  Stephen,  gazing  through  the  opened  hea- 
vens, behold  Jesus  at  the  right  hand  of  God.  Where 
else  should  he  see  him — the  man  of  sorrows  whom 
Paul  here,  to  our  joy,  and  comfort,  and  triumph,  exalts 
to  the  throne  of  an  adoring  universe  ?  In  the  person 
of  Jesus  Christ,  the  Lord  reigneth,  let  the  earth  rejoice. 
Take,  believers,  the  full  comfort  of  a  doctrine  which  is 
so  fraught  with  honour  to  God  and  salvation  to  man. 
Rejoice,  and  be  exceeding  glad.  Rejoice  in  the  Lord 
alway  ;  and  again  I  say,  rejoice.  Are  you  afraid  ?  Are 
you  in  trouble  about  anything  whatever?  Are  you 
racked  with  cares  ?  Do  earthly  or  spiritual  fears  disturb 
your  peace,  and  cast  a  cold  dark  shadow  on  your  soul  ? 
Does  your  faith  faint,  stagger  ?  Rise  from  your  knees  ; 
go  forth  this  night ;  leave  the  cross,  that  affecting  monu- 
ment of  his  love,  to  contemplate  the  glorious  monuments 
of  his  power ;  stand  beneath  heaven's  resplendent  arch  ; 
and  when,  led  on  by  the  pale  evening  star,  Orion,  and 
Arcturus,  and  the  sweet  Pleiades,  and  all  the  heavenly 
host  in  harmonious  order,  as  to  the  music  of  higher 
spheres,  come  marching  on  across  the  field  of  darkness, 


230  THE  CREATOR. 


list  to  the  noble  utterance  of  the  old  Hebrew  prophet. 
In  what  lofty  strains  he  speaks  of  your  Lord  and 
Saviour!  What  courage  his  words  inspire,  as,  raising 
his  arm  to  the  starry  skies,  he  exclaims,  "  Behold  who 
hath  created  these  things,  that  bringeth  out  their  host 
by  number :  he  calleth  them  all  by  names  by  the  great- 
ness of  his  might,  for  that  he  is  strong  in  power; 
not  one  faileth.  Hast  thou  not  known,  hast  thou 
not  heard,  that  the  everlasting  God,  the  Lord,  the 
Creator  of  the  ends  of  the  earth,  fainteth  not,  neither 

is  weary  ? He  giveth  power  to  the  faint. They 

that  wait  upon  the  Lord  shall  renew  their  strength ; 
they  shall  mount  up  with  wings  as  eagles ;  they  shall 
run  and  not  be  weary ;  and  they  shall  walk,  and  not 
faint." 


THE  END  OF  CREATION. 

All  things  were  created  for  Him. — Colossians  i.  16. 

VTTHEN  Ulysses  returned  with  fond  anticipations  to 
his  home  in  Ithaca,  his  family  did  not  recognise 
him.  Even  the  wife  of  his  bosom  denied  her  hus- 
band— so  changed  was  he  by  an  absence  of  twenty 
years,  and  the  hardships  of  a  long-protracted  war.  It 
was  thus  true  of  the  vexed  and  astonished  Greek  as 
of  a  nobler  King,  that  he  came  unto  his  own,  and  his 
own  received  him  not.  In  this  painful  position  of 
affairs  he  called  for  a  bow  which  he  had  left  at  home, 
when,  embarking  for  the  siege  of  Troy,  he  bade  farewell 
to  the  orange-groves  and  vine-clad  hills  of  Ithaca. 
With  characteristic  sagacity,  he  saw  how  a  bow,  so 
stout  and  tough  that  none  but  himself  could  draw  it, 
might  be  made  to  bear  witness  on  his  behalf.  He 
seized  it.  To  their  surprise  and  joy,  like  a  green  wand 
lopped  from  a  willow-tree,  it  yields  to  his  arms;  it 
bends  till  the  bow-string  touches  his  ear.  His  wife, 
now  sure  that  he  is  her  long  lost  and  long  lamented 
husband,  throws  herself  into  his  fond  embraces,  and  his 
household  confess  him  the  true  Ulysses. 

If  I  may  compare  small  things  with  great,  our  Lord 


232  THE  END  OF  CREATION. 

gave  such  proof  of  his  divinity  when  he  too  stood  a 
stranger  in  his  own  house,  despised  and  rejected  of  men, 
a  man  of  sorrows,  and  acquainted  with  grief.  He  bent 
the  stubborn  laws  of  nature  to  his  will.  He  proved 
himself  Creator  by  his  mastery  over  creation.  The 
winds  that  sweep  the  deep,  and  the  free  wild  sea  they 
sweep  alike  controlled,  leprosy  and  shaking  palsy  healed, 
the  rolling  eye  of  madness  calmed,  the  shrouded  corpse 
and  the  buried  dead  restored  to  life  by  a  word,  calmly 
spoken  after  the  manner  and  with  the  power  of  a 
master — these  things  leave  one  to  wonder  that  the  spec- 
tators did  not  fall  down  to  worship ;  and,  recognising 
God  in  the  guise  of  man,  say,  The  voice  of  the  Lord  is 
powerful ;  the  voice  of  the  Lord  is  full  of  majesty.  If 
nothing  could  be  more  sublime  than  that  scene  on  the 
Lake  of  Galilee,  when,  tranquil  in  aspect,  Jesus  stood 
on  the  bow  of  the  reeling  boat,  and  while  the  storm 
played  around,  and  the  spray  flew  in  white  sheets  over 
his  naked  head,  calmly  eyed  the  war  of  elements,  and 
raising  his  hand,  said,  "Peace,  be  still!"  could  any- 
thing be  more  conclusive  than  the  evidence  which  these 
waves  and  winds  afforded,  that  the  Master  himself  was 
come  home  ?  No  clearer  shone  the  stars  that  night, 
mirrored  in  the  placid  waters.  There,  the  winds  lulled 
and  the  wild  waves  at  rest,  deep  silence  spake.  By 
that  sudden  hush,  nature  proclaimed  him  God,  Lord, 
Creator  of  all.  Declared  to  be  so  by  inspired  tongues, 
and  by  such  strange  witnesses  as  winds  and  waves, 
devils,  disease,  death,  and  the  grave — heaven  concurs  in 
their  testimony  ;  by  the  voices  of  its  saints  and  angels, 


THE  END  OF  CREATION.  233 

of  its  worship,  hj^mns,  harps,  and  hallelujahs,  proclaim- 
ing him  Creator  and  Lord  of  all. 

Let  us  in  imagination  pass  the  angel  guardians  of 
those  gates  where  no  error  enters,  and,  entering  that 
upper  sanctuary  which  no  discord  divides,  no  heresy 
disturbs,  let  us  find  out  who  worship,  and  who  is  wor- 
shipped there.  The  law,  Thou  shalt  worship  the  Lord 
thy  God,  and  him  only  shalt  thou  serve,  extends  to 
heaven  as  well  as  to  earth ;  so  that  if  our  Lord  is  only 
the  highest  of  all  creatures,  we  shall  find  him  on  his 
knees — not  the  worshipped,  but  a  worshipper ;  and 
from  his  lofty,  and  lonely,  and  to  other  creatures  unap- 
proachable pinnacle,  looking  up  to  God,  as  does  the 
highest  of  the  snow-crowned  Alps  to  the  sun,  that, 
shining  far  above  it,  bathes  its  head  in  light.  We  have 
sought  him,  I  shall  suppose,  in  that  group  where  his 
mother  sits  with  the  other  Marys,  sought  him  among 
the  twelve  apostles,  or  where  the  chief  of  apostles 
reasons  with  angels  on  things  profound,  or  where  David, 
royal  leader  of  the  heavenly  choir,  strikes  his  harp,  or 
where  the  beggar,  enjoying  the  repose  of  Abraham's 
bosom,  forgets  his  wrongs,  or  where  martyrs  and  con- 
fessors, and  they  which  have  come  out  of  great  tribula- 
tion, with  robes  of  purest  white,  and  crowns  of  brightest 
glory,  swell  the  song  of  salvation  to  our  God  which 
sitteth  upon  the  throne,  and  unto  the  Lamb.  He  is 
not  there.  Rising  upwards,  we  seek  him  where  angels 
hover  on  wings  of  light,  or,  with  feet  and  faces  veiled, 
bend 'before  a  throne  of  dazzling  glory.  Nor  is  he 
there.     He  does  not  belong  to  their  company.     Verily, 

he  took  not  on  him  the  nature  of  angels. 
L  2 


234  THE  END  OF  CREATION. 

Eighteen  hundred  years  ago  Mary  is  rushing  through 
the  streets  of  Jerusalem,  speed  in  her  steps,  wild  anxiety 
in  her  look,  one  question  to  all  on  her  eager  lips, 
"Have  you  seen  my  son?"  Eighteen  hundred  years 
ago,  on  these  same  streets,  some  Greeks  accost  a  Gali- 
lean fisherman,  saying,  "  Sir,  we  would  see  Jesus."^ 
Now,  were  we,  bent  like  his  mother  on  finding,  like 
these  Greeks  on  seeing  him,  to  stay  a  passing  angel, 
and  accost  him  in  the  words,  "  Sir,  we  would  see 
Jesus,"  what  would  he  do?  How  would  his  arm 
rise,  and  his  finger  point  us  upward  to  the  throne  as 
he  fell  down  to  worship,  and  worshipping,  to  swell 
that  flood  of  song  which  in  this  one  full  stream  mingles 
the  names  of  the  Father,  and  of  the  Son — Blessing,  and 
honour,  and  glory,  and  power,  be  unto  him  that  sitteth 
upon  the  throne,  and  unto  the  Lamb,  for  ever  and  ever. 
Such  a  glorious  vision,  such  worship,  the  voices  that 
sounded  on  John's  ear  as  the  voice  of  many  waters,  the 
distant  roar  of  ocean,  are  in  perfect  harmony  with  the 
exalted  honour  and  divine  ofiices  which  Paul  assigns  to 
our  Lord  in  the  words.  All  things  were  created  for  him. 

In  directing  your  attention  now  to  the  purpose  for 
which  Christ  created  all  things,  I  remark — 

I.   That  my  text  furnishes  another  proof  of  our  Lord's 
divinity. 

He  is  in  the  position  of  a  servant  who  works  for 
others ;  he  of  a  master,  who  by  other  hands,  or  his  own, 
works  for  himself.     Applying  that  remark  to  the  case 


THE  END  OF  CUEATION.  235 


before  us,  look  to  the  condition  of  man.  Whatever 
office  man  fills  in  providence,  he  is  a  servant ;  and  on 
crowned  monarchs,  who  are,  and  should  consider  them- 
selves, but  upper  servants,  as  well  as  on  the  lowest 
menials,  Paul  la3's  this  duty.  Whether  ye  eat,  or  drink, 
or  whatsoever  ye  do,  do  all  to  the  glory  of  God.  God 
being  our  end,  as  well  as  our  beginning,  we  are  to  do 
nothing  for  ourselves  ;  but  everything  for  him.  Nor  do 
angels,  though  holding  a  much  higher  rank  in  creation, 
difier  much  from  us  in  this  respect.  Far  from  it.  Even 
as  we  see  that  law  which  rolls  every  drop  of  water  to 
the  ocean,  and  rounds  the  tear  on  our  cheek,  illustrated 
on  its  grandest  scale  in  those  skies  where  suns  roll,  and 
stars  rise,  and  wandering  comets  travel,  so,  if  we  would 
see  the  law  of  love  producing  perfect  service,  and  per- 
fect servants,  we  must  look  to  heaven.  Nor  wing  flies, 
nor  harp  sounds,  nor  heart  beats  yonder,  but  in  divine 
harmony  with  the  great  law  of  God's  moral  kingdom, 
Do  all  to  the  glory  of  God.  They  are  all  and  ever 
engaged  in  God's  service.  Hear  what  is  said  of  them, 
"  He  shall  give  his  angels  charge  over  thee,"  *'  I,  Jesus, 
have  sent  mine  angel  to  testify,"  "  See  thou  do  it  not," 
said  the  angel,  "  for  I  am  thy  fellow-servant,"  "  Are 
they  not  all  ministering  spirits  sent  forth  to  minister  for 
them  who  shall  be  heirs  of  salvation?"  Thus,  whether 
they  descend  on  our  world  to  open  the  bars  of  a  prison, 
or  to  roll  back  the  gates  of  the  sea,  to  predict  the  birtli 
of  a  Samson,  or  celebrate  the  advent  of  a  Saviour,  to 
blow  the  coal  that  dresses  Elijah's  meal,  or  kindle  the 
fire  that  lays  Sodom  in  ashes,  to  sing  "  peace"  over  the 


THE  END  OF  CREATION. 


rude  cradle  of  a  new-born  babe,  or  sound  the  trump  that 
rends  the  tomb  and  wakes  the  dead,  they  do  nothing 
for  themselves.  Not  ashamed  of  their  service,  but  glory- 
ing in  it,  they  respond  to  the  call.  Bless  the  Lord,  ye 
his  angels,  that  excel  in  strength,  that  do  his  command- 
ments, hearkening  unto  the  voice  of  his  word.  Bless 
ye  the  Lord,  all  ye  his  hosts ;  ye  ministers  of  his  that 
do  his  pleasure. 

Now,  whose  pleasure  does  my  text  represent  our 
Lord  as  doing?  For  whom,  in  the  work  of  creation, 
does  it  represent  him  as  acting  ?  All  things  were  created 
not  only  h/  him,  but /or  him.  For  him !  What  a  depth 
of  meaning,  what  a  manifest  divinity,  in  that  plain,  little 
word !  "  For  him  !"  You  might  pile  one  lofty  expres- 
sion on  another  up  to  heaven,  but  you  could  say  nothing 
more  of  God.  Nay,  it  is  said  of  God,  as  his  own  pecu- 
liar and  divine  prerogative,  "  The  Lord  hath  made  all 
things  for  himself 

Some  have  attempted  to  evade  the  argument  for 
Christ's  divinity,  which  is  based  on  the  fact  of  his 
having  created  all  things.  They  cannot  deny  the  fact, 
but  they  deny  the  inference.  They  object  and  allege 
that,  although  Christ  created  all  things,  he  did  so  not  by 
his  own  inherent  power,  but  by  such  power  as  Elijah 
received  from  God  to  restore  the  widow's  son,  or  Elisha 
to  lay  bare  the  bed  of  Jordan.  But,  apart  from  other 
answers  with  which  such  objectors  may  be  triumphantly 
met,  observe  how  my  text  cuts  the  ground  out  below 
their  feet.  Did  Elijah  bring  back  the  dead,  and  his 
successor  divide  the  flood  for  themselves  ?     Was  it  for 


THE  END  OF  CREATION.  237 


their  own  glory,  or  for  any  other  ends  of  their  own  ? 
That  will  not  be  alleged.  If  not,  then  there  is  no  ana- 
logy whatever  between  then*  miraculous  and  our  Lord's 
creating  works. 

If  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  was  other  and  less  than 
God,  then,  in  kindling  yonder  sun,  in  lighting  up  the 
starry  sky,  he  no  more  acted  for  himself  than  the 
domestic  does,  who,  appearing  at  my  call,  lights  my  lamp, 
or  stoops  on  the  hearth-stone  to  kindle  my  fire.  It  is 
the  very  nature  of  a  creature  to  be  a  dependant,  and 
hold  a  servant's  place.  Nor,  as  I  read  my  Bible,  was 
any  man  ever  more  justly  condemned  to  die  than  Jesus, 
if  he  were  but  a  man.  In  that  case  he  did  undoubtedly 
lay  himself  open  to  the  charge  of  blasphemy,  since — as 
the  Jews  truly  averred,  and  he  never  denied,  nor  so 
much  as  attempted  to  explain  it  away — he  made  him- 
self the  Son  of  God,  "  equal  with  God."  No  doubt  our 
Lord  did  that;  in  such  plain  terms  claiming  divine 
equality  as  to  justify  the  use  by  Paul  of  this  bold  lan- 
guage, He  thought  it  not  robbery  to  be  equal  with  God. 
And,  as  the  rainbow  looks  the  brighter  the  blacker  the 
cloud  it  spans,  the  majesty  of  his  claim  is  brought  out 
by  the  meanness  of  the  circumstances  in  which  it  was 
made.  Deserted  by  the  world,  a  man  of  sorrows,  and 
acquainted  with  grief,  dependent  on  a  few  humble  fol- 
lowers for  the  most  common  necessaries  of  life,  within 
some  hours  of  an  ignominious  end,  his  foot  already  on  the 
verge  of  the  grave,  he  rises  to  the  loftiness  of  Godhead  ; 
and,  turning  an  eye  that  was  to  be  soon  darkened  in  death 
on  earth  and  heaven,  he  claims  a  community  of  property 


^38  THE  END  OF  CREATION. 

with  God.  All  things,  he  says,  that  the  Father  hath 
are  mine.  To  the  "  all  mine  are  thine,"  this  dying  man 
adds,  *'  thine  are  mine."  He  speaks  to  God.  Thine,  thy 
eternity,  thy  throne,  thy  glory,  thy  crown,  thy  sceptre, 
all  are  mine.  Great  words,  pregnant  with  the  strongest 
consolation  and  most  glorious  truths !  For,  if  in  the 
very  nature  of  things  all  that  is  God's  is  Christ's,  and 
according  to  the  terms  of  the  New  Covenant,  all  that  is 
Christ's  is  ours,  these  words  draw  everything  that  belongs 
to  God  into  the  hands  of  the  humblest  believer.  What 
a  faith  is  that !  What  comfort  should  it  give  you ! 
What  courage  should  it  impart  to  you  !  What  grati- 
tude should  it  beget  in  you !  Rich  amid  poverty,  full 
in  emptiness,  and  in  weakness  strong,  with"  what 
blessed  peace  may  the  believer  lie  in  Christ's  arms, 
saying  T^ith  David,  I  will  fear  none  evil ;  or  with  Paul, 
as  he  addresses  himself  to  work  or  war,  I  can  do  all 
things  through  Christ  which  strengtheneth  me. 

II.  My  text  teaches  us  that  the  glory  of  God  was  the 
original  purpose  of  creation ;  "All  things  were 
created — for  him." 

Sin  has  to  some  extent  blighted  the  beauty  of  crea- 
tion. Still,  to  borrow  the  words  of  the  Psalmist,  The 
heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God ;  and  the  firmament 
sheweth  his  handy -work.  Day  unto  day  uttereth 
speech,  and  night  unto  night  sheweth  knowledge. 
There  is  no  speech  nor  language  where  their  voice  is 
not  heard.      Their   line  is  gone   out   through  all    the 


THE  END  OF  CREATION. 


earth,  and  their  words  to  the  end  of  the  world.  Nor 
is  it  distance  that  here  lends  enchantment  to  the  view. 
On  the  contrary,  the  more  closely  the  works  of  God  are 
examined,  the  higher  our  admiration  rises ;  and  the  less 
we  fear  that  true  science  will  ever  appear  as  the  anta- 
gonist, and  not  the  ally  of  the  faith.  Whether  we  turn 
the  telescope  on  heavens  studded  so  full  of  stars  as  to 
present  the  appearance  of  gold-dust  scattered  with  lavish 
hand  on  a  dark  purple  ground — or  turn  the  microscope 
on  such  comparatively  humble  objects  as  a  plant  of 
moss,  a  drop  of  ditch  water,  the  scaly  armour  of  a 
beetle,  a  spider's  eye,  the  down  of  a  feather,  or  the 
dust  on  a  butterfly's  wing,  such  divine  beauty,  wisdom, 
and  glory,  burst  into  view,  that  childhood's  roving  mind 
is  instantly  arrested.  The  dullest  are  moved  to  wonder, 
the  most  grovelling  souls  take  wing  and  rise  up  to  God. 
He  rushes,  indeed,  into  our  souls  by  the  open  portal  of 
every  sense.  We  see  a  divine  glory  in  worms,  and  un- 
approachable excellence  in  the  Almighty's  lowest  works. 
And  in  the  grand  roar  of  the  storm,  the  everlastini: 
boom  of  ocean  breakers,  the  sudden  crash  and  far-rolling 
peals  of  thunder,  the  soft  murmuring  of  gentle  brooks, 
the  gleesome  melody  of  budding  woods,  the  thrilling 
music  of  the  lark,  as,  like  a  parting  spirit,  she  spurns 
the  earth  and  wings  her  flight  to  heaven,  nature  echoes 
the  close  of  the  angel's  hymn.  The  whole  earth  is  full 
of  his  glory. 

When  the  morning  stars  sang  together,  and  all  the 
sons  of  God  shouted  for  joy  over  our  new-born  world, 
that,  Holy,  holy,  holy,  is  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  the  whole 


240  THE  END  OF  CREATION. 

earth  is  full  of  his  glory,  formed,  perhaps,  the  burden  of 
their  song.  And  when  Adam  sat  by  his  beautiful  bride, 
and  the  shaggy  lion  crouched  like  a  dog  at  their  feet, 
and  the  beams  of  the  setting  sun  threw  a  golden  splendour 
over  their  bower  of  eglantine  and  roses,  and  the  feathered 
tribes  from  all  the  groves  of  paradise  poured  forth  rich 
gushes  of  sweetest  melody,  perhaps,  ere  they  lay  down 
to  rest  with  their  arms  and  hearts  entwined,  they  took 
it  for  their  vesper-hymn,  singing,  while  God  and  de- 
lighted angels  listened.  Holy,  holy,  holy,  is  the  Lord  of 
Hosts,  the  whole  earth  is  full  of  his  glory. 

The  harp  of  Eden,  alas !  is  broken.  Unstrung  and 
mute,  an  exiled  race  have  hung  it  on  the  willows ;  and 
Ichabod  stands  written  now  in  the  furrows  of  man's 
guilty  forehead  and  on  the  wreck  of  his  ruined  estate. 
Some  things  remain  unaffected  by  the  blight  of  sin,  as 
God  made  them  for  himself;  the  flowers  have  lost  neither 
their  bloom  nor  fragrance ;  the  rose  smells  as  sweet 
as  it  did  when  bathed  in  the  dews  of  paradise  ;  and  seas 
and  seasons,  obedient  to  their  original  impulse,  roll  on 
as  of  old  to  their  Maker's  glory.  But  from  man,  alas ! 
how  is  the  glory  departed !  Look  at  his  body  when 
the  light  of  the  eye  is  quenched,  and  the  countenance 
is  changed,  and  the  noble  form  lies  festering  in  corrup- 
tion— mouldering  into  the  dust  of  death.  Or,  change 
still  more  hideous,  look  at  his  soul !  The  spirit  of  piety 
dead,  the  mind  under  a  dark  eclipse,  hatred  to  God 
rankling  in  that  once  loving  heart,  it  retains  but  some 
vestiges  of  its  original  grandeur ;  just  enough,  like  the 
beautiful  tracery  and  noble  arches  of  a  ruined  pile,  to 


THE  END  OF  CREATION.  241 

make  us  feel  what  glory  once  was  there,  and  now  is 
gone.  What  glory  does  God  get  from  many  of  us  ? 
Like  a  son  wdio  is  bringing  his  father's  grey  hairs  to  the 
grave,  a  daughter  who,  sunk  into  the  lowest  degrada- 
tion, is  the  shame  of  her  family,  we  are  a  dishonour  and 
a  disgrace.  In  applying  such  terms  to  sinners,  I  am 
not  employing  language  too  strong.  God  uses  still 
stronger  terms.  As  if  his  were  the  feelings  of  a  father 
who  wishes  that  he  had  been  childless,  of  a  mother  who 
esteems  the  barren  happy,  it  is  written,  "  It  repented  the 
Lord  that  he  had  made  man  on  the  earth,  and  it  grieved 
him  at  his  heart."     What  a  horrible  thing  is  sin  ! 

Yet  God's  object  in  creating  man  was  not  defeated ; 
and  in  illustration  of  that,  I  remark — 

III.  That  God  will  make  even  the  wicked  and  their 
sins  redound  to  his  glory. 

A  strange  machine  is  this  of  providence  !  How 
slowly  some  wheels  move,  while  others  whirl  round  so 
rapidly  that  the  eye  cannot  catch  the  flying  spokes: 
some  are  turning  in  one  direction,  and  others  in  the 
very  opposite.  Here,  sight  to  wonder  at,  Virtue  is 
struggling  with  the  temptations  of  poverty,  and  Piety 
sits  a  mendicant^  clothed  in  rags,  and  covered  with  a 
mass  of  sores.  There,  again,  we  see  the  wicked  in 
great  power,  and  spreading  himself  like  a  green  bay 
tree;  and  not  seldom  like  the  deadly  upas,  which  is 
said  to  poison  the  air  around  it,  and  kill  all  that  comes 


M 


242  THE  END  OF  CREATION. 

within  its  noxious  shade.  In  the  arrangements  of  this 
world  it  often  seems  as  if  confusion  reigned,  and  some- 
times confusion  worse  confounded.  Sin  triumphs,  and 
in  the  success  of  the  ungodly,  who  have  no  changes, 
and  no  bands  in  their  death,  men  and  devils  seem  to 
defeat  the  purposes  of  God. 

Defeat  the  purposes  of  God !  Impossible.  As 
you  stood  some  stormy  day  upon  a  sea-cliff,  and 
marked  the  giant  billow  rise  from  the  deep  to  rush 
on  with  foaming  crest,  and  throw  itself  thundering 
on  the  trembling  shore,  did  you  ever  fancy  that  you 
could  stay  its  course,  and  hurl  it  back  into  the  depths 
of  ocean?  Did  you  ever  stand  beneath  the  leaden 
lowering  cloud,  and  mark  the  lightning's  leap,  as  it 
shot  and  flashed,  dazzling,  athwart  the  gloom,  and 
think  that  you  could  grasp  the  bolt  and  change  its 
path?  Still  more  foolish  and  vain  his  thought,  who 
fancies  that  he  can  arrest  or  turn  aside  the  purposes 
of  God,  saying,  What  is  the  Almighty  that  we  should 
serve  him?  Let  us  break  his  bands  in  sunder,  and 
cast  away  his  cords  from  us.  Break  his  bands  asunder ! 
IIow  he  that  sitteth  in  the  heavens  shall  laugh  ! 
Poor,  beguiled,  benighted  sinner,  do  you  suppose,  that 
in  the  full  swing  and  unbridled  license  of  your  pas- 
sions you  are  serving  yourself,  are  your  own  free 
master?  Be  assured  that  it  is  not  otherwise  with  you 
than  it  was  with  Pilate,  and  the  chief  priests,  and  the 
Jews,  and  Judas  also.  Unconscious  of  the  high  hand 
that  controlled  their  movements,  these  enemies  of  God 
were  gathered  together  to  do  that  which,  by  the  deter- 


THE  END  OF  CREATION.  248 


minate  counsel  aad  foreknowledge  of  God,  was  appointed 
to  be  done. 

Do  you,  for  instance,  injure  a  godly  man  ?  God  is 
using  you  to  train  up  his  child  in  the  grace  of  patience. 
Do  you  defraud  him  ?  God  is  using  you  to  detach  his 
heart  from  the  world,  and  to  loosen  the  roots  that  bind 
his  affections  to  the  earth.  Do  you  deceive  him  ?  God 
is  using  you  to  teach  him  not  to  put  his  trust  in  princes, 
nor  in  the  son  of  man,  in  whom  there  is  no  help.  Do 
you  wound  his  feelings?  You  are  a  knife  in  God's 
hand  to  let  the  sap  flow  more  freely  in  a  bark-bound 
tree,  or  to  prune  its  branches  that  it  may  bring  forth 
more  fruit.  Messenger  of  Satan !  dost  thou  buffet 
an  apostle  ?  God  uses  thee  to  keep  him  humble,  and 
to  teach  him  to  wear  his  honours  meekly.  Oppressor 
of  the  church !  dost  thou  cast  an  apostle  into  prison  ? 
God  uses  thee,  thy  dungeon,  and  thy  chains,  to  show 
how  he  will  answer  prayer,  and  bring  his  people  even- 
tually out  of  their  sorest  troubles, — saving,  as  he  saved 
Peter,  at  the  very  uttermost.  King  of  Egypt !  with  thy 
guards  around  thee,  flattered  by  thy  supple  courtiers, 
backed  by  thy  boastful  magicians,  with  thy  haughty 
looks  art  thou  thwarting  God,  and,  in  hardening  thy 
heart  and  refusing  to  let  Israel  go,  promoting  and 
securing  thine  own  ambitious,  selfish,  grasping  ends  ? 
Fool,  what  a  mistake  !  In  very  deed,  said  the  Lord  by 
Moses,  for  this  cause  have  I  raised  thee  up,  for  to  shew 
in  thee  my  power ;  and  that  my  name  may  be  declared 
throughout  all  the  earth.  Pharaoh's  obstinacy  affords 
the  occasion,  of  which  God  makes  use,  to  turn  a  great 


244  THE  END  OF  CREATION. 

kingdom  into  a  stage  whereon  to  display  the  majesty  of 
his  power.  What  must  have  been  the  surprise,  what 
the  rage,  what  the  mortification  of  that  imperious  tyrant, 
to  find  himself,  after  all  that  he  and  his  bleeding  country 
had  sufiered,  but  a  mere  tool  in  the  hands  of  the 
Hebrew's  God!  God  took  a  revenue  of  glory  out 
of  him,  as  he  will  sooner  or  later  do  out  of  all  his 
enemies. 

No  man  liveth  for  himself.  There  is  a  sense  in 
which  that  is  universally  true.  And  the  most  bold  and 
God-hating  sinners  may  rest  assured  that  when  the  com- 
plicated machine  of  providence  has  done  its  work,  and 
the  secret  purposes  of  God  are  fully  completed,  and 
things  old  and  worn  out  are  replaced  by  a  new  heaven 
and  a  new  earth,  then  it  shall  be  seen  how  the  Lord 
hath  made  all  things  for  himself :  yea,  even  the  wicked 
for  the  day  of  evil.  Oh  that  men  would  turn  now 
and  seek  his  mercy, — his  gracious,  much-needed,  freely- 
ofifered,  all-sufficient,  soul-saving  mercy.  Kiss  the  Son 
lest  he  be  angry,  and  ye  perish  from  the  way.  Why, 
when  God  is  willing  to  forgive  and  forget,  why,  when 
he  has  sent  his  Son  to  seek  you,  and  sends  his  Spirit  to 
plead  with  you,  why  should  you  perish  ?  Reject  salva- 
tion, and  you  must  perish.  For,  though  unbelievers 
and  the  wicked  are  after  a  fashion  serving  God,  it  is  as 
the  rod  which  a  kind  father  reluctantly  uses  to  chasten 
his  son,  and  which,  when  it  has  answered  its  purpose, 
he  breaks  in  two,  and  casts  into  the  fire. 


THE  END  OF  CREATION.  24:^ 


IV.  Since  Christ  hath  made  all  things  for  himself,  his 
people  are  emphatically  called  to  consecrate  them- 
selves, and  their  all,  to  his  glory. 

To  this  duty  you  are  called,  hy  the  obligations  of 
both  a  natural  and  spiritual  creation ;  by  your  descent 
from  the  first,  and  also  from  the  second  Adam.  To 
live,  to  watch,  to  work,  to  suffer,  and  to  sacrifice  both 
for  Him  who,  loving  us,  spared  not  his  own  son,  but 
delivered  him  up  for  us  all,  and  for  Him  also  who,  loving 
us,  washed  us  from  our  sins  in  his  own  blood,  is  our 
plain  bounden  duty ;  let  me  rather  say,  for  duty  is  a 
cold  word,  should  be  our  daily  and  supreme  delight. 
I  do  not  say  that  it  is  plain  sailing  to  heaven.  I  do 
not  say  but  that  the  duty  we  owe  to  Christ  may  and 
shall  expose  us  to  what  the  world  accounts,  and  what 
flesh  and  blood  feel,  to  be  pain  ?  Be  it  so  !  What  pains 
Jesus  endured,  what  sacrifices  he  submitted  to  for  us ! 

Besides,  how  should  it  make  us  take  suffering  joy- 
fully to  think  that  it  is  those  who  are  crucified  with 
him  on  earth  that  shall  be  crowned  with  him  in  heaven. 
None  else.  They  win  in  this  game  that  lose.  They 
live  in  this  warfare  that  die.  If  we  be  dead  with  him, 
we  shall  also  live  with  him ;  if  we  suffer,  we  shall  als(» 
rei^  with  him.      He  that  loseth  his  life  shall  find  it. 

Surely,  if  there  be  such  things  as  true,  tender,  sacred, 
eternal  obligations,  they  bind  those  who,  to  speak  the 
plain  truth,  but  for  Christ  had  been  suffering  hell's  in- 
tolerable torment,  had  never  even  hoped  to  set  foot  in 


246  THE  END  OF  CREATION. 

heaven.  What  owest  thou  thy  Lord?  You  cannot 
tell  that.  Therefore  be  your  money  millions  or  mites, 
be  your  talents  ten  or  two,  be  your  hearts  young  and 
green,  or  seared  and  withered,  lay  them  at  a  Saviour's 
feet.  Let  his  glory  be  your  glorious  aim !  Raised  far 
above  the  common  objects  and  base  pursuits  of  the 
world,  this  is  an  end  worth  living  for.  A  life  such 
as  that,  elevating  and  ennobling  the  humblest  lot, 
shall  command  the  regards,  and  fix  on  a  man  the 
gaze  of  angels.  Lofty  ends  give  dignity  to  the  lowest 
oflfices.  It  is,  for  instance,  an  honest,  but  you  would 
not  call  it  an  honourable  occupation  to  pull  an  oar; 
yet  if  that  oar  dips  in  a  yeasty  sea  to  impel  the 
life-boat  over  mountain  waves  and  through  roaring 
breakers,  he  who  has  stripped  for  the  venture,  and, 
breaking  away  from  weeping  wife  and  praying  mother 
and  clinging  children,  has  bravely  thrown  himself  into 
the  boat  to  pull  for  yonder  wreck,  and  pluck  his  drown- 
ing brothers  from  the  jaws  of  death,  presents,  as  from 
time  to  time  we  catch  a  glimpse  of  him  on  the  crest  of 
the  foaming  billow,  a  spectacle  of  grandeur  which  would 
withdraw  our  eyes  from  the  presence  even  of  a  queen, 
surrounded  with  all  the  blaze  and  ghttering  pomp  of 
royalty. 

Take  another  illustration,  drawn  from  yet  humbler 
life.  Some  years  ago,  on  a  winter  morning,  two 
children  were  found  frozen  to  death.  They  were 
sisters.  The  elder  child  had  the  younger  seated  in  her 
lap,  closely  folded  within  her  lifeless  arms.  She  had 
stripped  her  own  thinly-clad  form  to  protect  its  feebler 


THE  END  OF  CREATION.  247 

life,  and,  to  warm  the  icy  fingers,  had  tenderly  placed 
its  little  hands  in  her  own  bosom  ;  and  pitying  men 
and  weeping  women  did  stand  and  gaze  on  the  two 
dead  creatures,  as,  with  glassy  eyes  and  stiffened  forms, 
they  reclined  upon  the  snow  wreath — the  days  of  their 
wandering  and  mourning  ended,  and  heaven's  own  pure 
snow  no  purer  than  that  true  sister's  love.  They  were 
orphans  ;  houseless,  homeless  beggars.  But  not  on  that 
account,  had  I  been  there  to  gaze  on  that  touching 
group,  would  I  have  shed  one  tear  the  less,  or  felt  the 
less  deeply,  that  it  was  a  display  of  true  love,  and  of 
human  nature  in  its  least  fallen  aspect,  which  deserved 
to  be  embalmed  in  poetry,  and  sculptured  in  costliest 
marble. 

Yes ;  and  however  humble  the  Christian's  walk,  or 
mean  his  occupation,  it  matters  not.  He  who  lives  for 
the  glory  of  God,  has  an  end  in  view  which  lends  dignity 
to  the  man  and  to  his  life.  Bring  common  iron  into 
proper  contact  with  the  magnet,  it  will  borrow  the 
strange  attractive  virtue,  and  itself  become  magnetic. 
The  merest  crystal  fragment,  that  has  been  flung  out 
into  the  field  and  trampled  on  the  ground,  shines  like  a 
diamond  when  sunbeams  stoop  to  kiss  it.  And  who  has 
not  seen  the  dullest  rain  cloud,  when  it  turned  its  wee]'ing 
face  to  the  sun,  change  into  glory,  and,  in  the  bow  that 
spans  it,  present  to  the  eyes  of  age  and  infancy,  alike 
of  the  philosopher  who  studies,  and  of  the  simple  joyous 
child  who  runs  to  catch  it,  the  most  brilliant  and  beautiful 
phenomenon  in  nature  ?     Thus,  from  what  they  look  at 


248  THE  END  OF  CREATION. 

and  come  in  contact  with,  common  things  acquire  un- 
common glory. 

Live,  then,  "  looking  unto  Jesus,"  live  for  nothing 
less  and  nothing  lower  than  God's  glory  ;  and  these 
ends  will  lend  grandeur  to  your  life,  and  shed  a  holy, 
heavenly  lustre  on  your  station,  however  humble  it  be. 
Yes.  A  man  of  piety  may  be  lodged  in  the  rudest 
cottage,  and  his  occupation  may  be  only  to  sweep  a 
street,  yet  let  him  so  sweep  a  street,  that,  through  the 
honest  and  diligent  doing  of  his  duty,  God  is  glorified, 
and  men  are  led  to  speak  and  think  better  of  religion, 
and  he  forms  a  link  between  earth  and  heaven.  He 
associates  himself  with  holy  angels.  And,  though  at  a 
humble  distance,  treads  in  the  footsteps  of  that  blessed 
Saviour,  who,  uniting  divinity  to  humanity,  as  our 
Maker  made  all  things  for  himself,  and,  as  our  brother 
man,  whether  he  ate  or  drank  or  whatsoever  he  did, 
did  all  to  the  glory  of  God  ;  and  doing  so,  left  us  an 
example  that  we  should  follow  his  steps.  Go  and  do 
likewise.  Glorify  God,  and  you  shall  enjoy  him.  Labour 
on  earth,  and  you  shall  rest  in  heaven.  Christ  judges 
them  to  be  the  men  of  worth  who  are  the  men  of  work. 
Be  thy  life  then  devoted  to  his  service.  Now  for  the 
work,  hereafter  for  the  wages ;  earth  for  the  cross,  heaven 
for  the  crown.  Go  thy  way,  assured  that  there  is  not 
a  prayer  you  ofifer,  nor  a  word  you  speak,  nor  a  foot 
you  walk,  nor  a  tear  you  shed,  nor  a  hand  you  hold  out 
to  the  perishing,  nor  a  warning  you  give  to  the  careless, 
nor  a  stretched  child  you  pluck  from  the  streets,  nor  a 
visit  paid  to  the  widow  or  fatherless,  nor  a  loaf  of  bread 


THE  END  OF  CREATION.  249 

you  lay  on  a  poor  man's  table,  that  there  is  nothing 
you  do  for  the  love  of  God  and  man,  but  is  faithfully 
registered  in  the  chronicles  of  the  kingdom,  and  shall 
be  publicly  read  that  day  when  Jesus,  callini]^  you  up 
perhaps  from  a  post  as  mean  as  Mordecai's,  shall  crown 
your  brows  before  an  assembled  world,  saying.  Thus  it 
shall  be  done  to  the  man  whom  the  king  delighteth  to 
honour. 


CHRIST  IN  PROVIDENCE. 

By  him  all  things  consist. — Colossi ans  i.  17. 

O.0D'S  work  of  providence  is  "  his  most  holy,  wise, 
and  powerful  preserving  and  governing  of  all  his 
creatures  and  all  their  actions."  It  has  no  Sabbath. 
No  night  suspends  it,  and  from  its  labours  God  never 
rests.  If,  for  the  sake  of  illustration,  I  may  compare 
small  things  with  great,  it  is  like  the  motion  of  the 
heart.  Beating  our  march  to  the  grave,  since  the  day 
we  began  to  live,  the  heart  has  never  ceased  to  beat. 
Our  limbs  grow  weary ;  not  it.  We  sleep  ;  it  never 
sleeps.  Needing  no  period  of  repose  to  recruit  its 
strength,  by  night  and  day  it  throbs  in  every  pulse ; 
and,  constantly  supplying  nourishment  to  the  meanest 
as  well  as  to  the  noblest  organs  of  our  frame,  with  mea- 
sured, steady,  untired  stroke,  it  drives  the  blood  along 
the  bounding  arteries,  without  any  exercise  of  will  on 
our  part,  and  even  when  the  consciousness  of  our  own 
existence  is  lost  in  dreamless  slumbers. 

If  philosophy  is  to  be  believed,  our  world  is  but  an 
outlying  corner  of  creation ;  bearing,  perhaps,  as  small 
a  proportion  to  the  great  universe,  as  a  single  grain 
bears  to  all  the  sands  of  the   sea-shore,  or  one  small 


CHRIST  IN  PROVIDENCE.  251 


quivering  leaf  to  the  foliage  of  a  boundless  forest.  Yet, 
even  within  this  earth's  narrow  limits,  how  vast  the  work 
of  Providence  !  How  soon  is  the  mind  lost  in  contem- 
plating it !  How  great  that  Being  whose  hand  paints 
every  flower,  and  shapes  every  leaf;  who  forms  every 
bud  on  every  tree,  and  every  infant  in  the  darkness  of 
the  womb;  who  feeds  each  crawling  worm  with  a 
parent's  care,  and  watches  like  a  mother  over  the  insect 
that  sleeps  away  the  night  in  the  bosom  of  a  flower ; 
who  throwp  open  the  golden  gates  of  day,  and  draws 
around  a  sleeping  world  the  dusky  curtains  of  the  night; 
who  measures  out  the  drops  of  every  shower,  the  whirl- 
ing snow-flakes,  and  the  sands  of  man's  eventful  life ; 
who  determines  alike  the  fall  of  a  sparrow  and  the  fate 
of  a  kingdom  ;  and  so  overrules  the  tide  of  human  for- 
tunes, that  whatever  befall  him,  come  joy  or  sorrow,  the 
believer  says,  It  is  the  Lord  :  let  him  do  what  seemeth 
him  good. 

In  ascribing  this  great  work  to  Jesus  Christ,  my 
text  calls  you  to  render  him  divine  honours.  In  the 
hands  that  were  once  nailed  to  the  cross,  it  places  the 
sceptre  of  universal  empire ;  and  on  those  blessed  arms 
that,  once  thrown  around  a  mother's  neck,  now  tenderly 
enfold  every  child  of  God,  it  hangs  the  weight  of  worlds. 
Great  is  the  mystery  of  godUness  !  Yet  so  it  is,  plainly 
written  in  the  words.  By  him  all  things  consist.  By  him 
the  angels  keep  their  holiness,  and  the  stars  their  orbits  ; 
the  tides  roll  along  the  deep,  and  the  seasons  through 
the  year ;  kings  reign,  and  princes  decree  justice  ;  the 
church  of  God  is  held  together,  riding  out  at  anchor  the 


252  CHRIST  IN  PROVIDENCE. 

rudest  storms ;  and  by  hirrij  until  the  last  of  his  elect 
are  plucked  from  the  wreck,  and  his  purposes  of  mercy 
are  all  accomplished,  this  guilty  world  is  kept  from 
sinking  under  a  growing  load  of  sins. 

"  By  him  all  things  consist."  Wonderful  words, 
as  spoken  of  one  who,  some  eighteen  centuries  ago,  was 
a  houseless  wanderer,  a  pensioner  on  woman's  charity, 
and  not  seldom  without  a  place  where  to  lay  his  head! 
Yet  how  clearly  do  these  words  attest  his  dignity  and 
divinity  ?  More  could  not  be  said  of  God ;  and  Paul 
will  not  say  less  of  Christ.  Nor,  great  and  glorious  as 
they  are,  do  they  stand  alone.  Certainly  not.  In  lan- 
guage as  lofty,  and  ascribing  to  Jesus  honours  no  less 
divine,  the  apostle  thus  writes  to  the  Hebrews,  "  God, 
who  at  sundry  times,  and  in  divers  manners,  spake  in 
time  past  unto  the  fathers  by  the  prophets,  hath  in  these 
last  days  spoken  unto  us  by  his  Son,  whom  he  hath 
appointed  heir  of  all  things,  by  whom  also  he  made  the 
worlds ;  who,  being  the  brightness  of  his  glory,  and  the 
express  image  of  his  person,  and  upholding  all  things  hy 
the  word  of  his  j)ower,  when  he  had  by  himself  purged 
our  sins,  sat  down  on  the  right  hand  of  the  Majesty  on 
high."  How  wonderful !  He  left  a  grave  to  ascend 
the  throne ;  he  exchanged  the  side  of  a  dying  thief  for 
the  right  hand  of  God ;  he  dropped  a  reed  to  assume  the 
sceptre  of  earth  and  heaven ;  he  put  oflf  a  wreath  of 
thorns  to  put  on  a  sovereign's  crown ;  and,  in  that  work 
of  providence  to  which  I  would  now  turn  your  atten- 
tion, you  behold  Him,  who  died  to  save  the  chief  of 
sinners,  made  *'  Head  over  all  things  to  the  church." 


CHUIST  IN  PROVIDENCE.  253 

I.  His  providence  appears  in  those  extraordinary  events 
which  lead  his  people,  and  often  compel  his 
enemies,  to  acknowledge  the  hand  of  God. 

I  do  not  speak  of  miraculous  events ; — as  when  the 
sea  opened  her  gates  to  the  flying  Israelites,  and  man's 
extremity  proved  God's  opportunity ;  as  when  the  ravens, 
deserting  their  nests  and  young  to  cater  for  the  prophet, 
hunted  the  fields  to  supply  his  table ;  as  when  hungry 
lions,  hke  gentle  lambs,  crouched  at  Daniel's  feet ;  as 
when  the  sun  set  at  noonday  over  the  red  cross  of  Cal- 
vary, or  shone  at  midnight  on  the  hills  of  Giheon.  It  is 
to  another  kind  of  events  that  I  refer ;  and  of  these — 

1.  Job's  history  furnishes  a  notable  example.  Satan 
has  gone  forth  from  the  presence  of  the  Lord,  armed 
with  this  commission,  Behold,  all  that  he  hath  is  in 
thy  power ;  only  upon  himself  put  not  forth  thine  hand. 
The  devil  can  never  go  a  step  further  against  the  saints 
than  God  chooses  to  give  him  chain.  That  is  great  com- 
fort. Yet  how  ruthlessly,  how  pitilessly,  how  malig- 
nantly the  Enemy  of  man  used  his  power  on  this  occa- 
sion, you  know.  The  gallant  ship  that,  with  songs 
below,  and  gay  dances  on  her  deck,  was  sailing  on  a 
summer  day  over  a  glassy  sea,  in  her  sky  no  portentous 
clouds,  in  her  snowy  sheets  but  wind  enough  to  waft 
her  home,  and  of  which,  by  nightfall,  the  only  vestiges 
are  some  broken  timbers  afloat  in  the  foam  that  the 
wild  waves  are  grinding  on  the  horrid  reef,  presents  a 
striking  image  of  the  change  that  one  short,  eventful 
day  brought  on  the  house  and  fortunes  of  this  man  of 


254  CHRIST  IN  PROVIDENCE. 

God.  One  following  hard  upon  another,  like  succes- 
sive shocks  of  an  earthquake,  the  messengers  of  disaster 
come.  Ruin,  ruin,  is  on  their  lips,  as,  pale  with  terror, 
panting  for  breath,  they  arrive  with  their  tidings,  and  that 
doleful  echo,  that  ever-recurring  close  of  the  woful  tale, 
"  I  only  am  es(;aped  alone  to  tell  thee."  Cattle,  flocks, 
camels  gone,  all  his  property  sunk.  Job  is  a  beggared 
man.  Yet  his  children  are  safe  ;  and  with  seven  gallant 
sons  and  three  fair  daughters,  he  still  is  rich.  These 
spared,  let  all  else  perish.  But  ah  !  the  next  wave, 
towering,  cresting  high  over  head,  falls  on  his  labouring 
bark,  and,  sweeping  the  deck  clean,  leaves  none  standing 
there  but  himself  and  a  frantic  mother  ;  nor  is  theirs  the 
consolation  of  the  mother  who,  reaching  the  shore  with 
her  living  babe,  presses  it  to  her  bosom,  and  holds  herself 
compensated  for  all  other  losses.  They  are  dead,  cries 
the  last  messenger  ;  they  are  dead,  and  I  only  am  escaped 
alone  to  tell  thee.  Dead  ?  We  almost  expect  to  see 
himself  fall  dead ;  stunned,  killed  by  this  crowning, 
this  overwhelming  stroke.  But  no.  Greatest  of  heroes, 
spectacle  for  angels  to  admire,  pattern  for  believers  to 
imitate  in  the  hour  of  their  most  adverse  fortunes,  he 
arose  and  worshipped — arose  as  the  ball  which  rebounds 
the  higher  the  harder  it  is  struck ;  as  the  eagle  which 
reaches  her  loftiest  flight  not  in  serene,  but  in  tempes- 
tuous skies.  Owning  the  Providence  in  whose  hand 
Sabean  and  Chaldean,  fiery  thunderbolt  and  roaring  whirl- 
wind, were  only  instruments.  Job  bows  before  the  throne 
of  God,  and  says,  with  a  patience  more  uncommon  even 
than  his  trials.  Naked  came  I  out  of  my  mother's  womb, 


CIJKIST  IN  PROVIDENCE.  255 

and  naked  shall  I  return  thither :  the  Lord  gave,  and 
the  Lord  hath  taken  away ;  blessed  be  the  name  of  the 
Lord. 

2.  The  history  of  God's  church  is  filled  with  remark- 
able illustrations  of  marvellous,  though  not  miraculous 
providences.  "  The  wind  bloweth  where  it  listeth," 
said  our  Lord ;  and  when — now  sleeping,  now  gently 
breathing,  now  sighing  as  in  sorrow,  now  shrieking  as 
in  pain,  now  roaring  in  mad-like  fits  of  rage,  and  now 
howling  round  the  house — it  shakes  every  door  and 
window  to  get  in,  the  wind  seems  as  uncontrolled  and 
uncontrollable  a  power  as  any  in  nature.  But  when, 
some  three  hundred  years  ago,  it  rose  in  its  resistless 
might,  and  swept  down  in  hurricane  gusts  from  heaven 
to  scatter  the  hopes  of  Rome  and  the  pride  of  Spain,  it 
was  surely,  to  use  the  words  of  scripture,  "  stormy  wind 
fulfilling  his  word."  I  believe  that.  In  that  crisis  of 
the  church's  fate,  Popery  and  secular  despotism,  eccle- 
siastical and  political  tyranny,  united  their  forces,  as  they 
now  threaten  to  do  again.  Their  object  was  to  crush 
the  liberties  of  mankind,  and  to  quench  the  Hght  of  the 
Reformation  in  the  life-blood  of  its  professors.  Never 
had  winds  wafted,  never,  since  keel  first  ploughed  them, 
had  the  waves  borne  such  a  fleet  as,  armed  for  that  pur- 
pose and  confident  of  victory,  came  ruffling  down  in  the 
pride  of  its  power  on  the  coasts  of  England.  The 
hearts  of  many  trembled  ;  and  some  were  but  little 
comforted  by  the  noble  attitude  in  which  England  rose, 
headed  by  her  maiden  Queen,  to  meet  the  danger  in  the 
name  of  God.     Who  could  not  fight  could  pray.     Ear- 


256  CHRIST  IN  PROVIDENCE. 

nest  supplications  were  therefore  made  continually,  nor 
made  in  vain.  And  so,  when  the  cannon's  thunder 
pealed  along  the  deep,  and  gun  to  gun,  yard-arm  to 
yard-arm,  they  fought  the  Spaniard  in  sight  of  their 
homes,  One  mingled  in  that  protracted  battle,  as  un- 
looked  for  by  the  foe  as  was  the  fourth  person  who 
walked  the  fiery  furnace  with  the  three  Hebrew  children 
in  the  brave  days  of  old. 

God  descended  into  the  fight.  He  did  fly  upon 
the  wings  of  the  wind,  and  with  the  black  tempest 
swept  the  enemy  to  destruction.  Storm  rose  and 
roared  upon  the  back  of  storm,  scattering  that  boastful 
navy.  Until,  where  it  had  ridden  in  its  pride,  nothing 
was  seen  but  the  crests  of  the  angry  sea;  nothing 
heard  but  thundering  breakers,  and  the  scream  of  the 
wild  sea-mew.  And  while  the  hurricane  was  pursuing 
them  along  our  island,  and  strewing  these  northern  shores 
with  the  corpses  and  the  wreck  of  that  proud  Armada, 
the  people  of  England  repaired  to  the  house  of  God  to 
acknowledge  his  providence  in  this  memorable  deliver- 
ance, and  sing  of  the  stormy  wind  fulfilling  his  word. 

3.  Again,  the  finger  of  God  has  been  often  marvel- 
lously revealed  in  the  detection  and  punishment  of  crime. 
Men  have  stood  astonished,  and  have  been  constrained 
to  say — There  was  a  providence  in  that.  By  some 
remarkable  and  unlooked-for  circumstance,  God  himself 
has  cleared  away  every  doubt;  and  said,  as  it  were, 
with  his  finger  pointed  at  the  confounded,  trembling 
wretch.  Thou,  thou  art  the  man !  One  night,  for 
instance,  some  years  ago,  a  person  in  this  city  awoke 


CHRIST  IN  PROVIDENCE.  257 

to  find  that  his  house  had  been  plundered.  The  alarm 
was  raised,  nor  was  it  long  ere  the  officers  of  justice 
found  a  clue.  The  thief,  wounding  his  hand  as  he 
escaped  by  the  window,  had  left  a  red  witness  behind 
him.  The  watchman  flashed  his  lantern  on  the  spot. 
Drop  by  drop,  blood  stained  the  pavement.  They 
tracked  it  on,  and  on,  and  ever  on,  till  their  silent  guide 
conducted  them  along  an  open  passage,  and  up  a  flight 
of  steps — stopping  at  the  door  of  a  house.  They  broke 
in ;  and  there  they  found  the  bleeding  hand,  the  booty, 
and  the  pale,  ghastly  criminal.  Now,  a  shower  of  rain 
would  have  washed  away  the  stain  ;  a  fall  of  snow  would 
have  concealed  it ;  the  foot  of  some  wretched  street- 
walker, some  midnight  reveller,  would  have  efikced  it ; 
but  no,  the  crime  was  one  of  peculiar  atrocity,  and  there 
God  kept  the  damning  spot.  And,  unless  they  be  for- 
given, covered  by  the  righteousness,  washed  away  in  the 
blood  of  Jesus,  so  shall  your  sins  find  you  out.  Wash 
them  away  in  Calvary's  fountain,  or  they  wait  to  meet 
you  at  the  bar  of  judgment.  The  step  of  divine  justice 
may  be  slow,  but  it  is  sure,  and  I  implore  sinners  to 
flee  from  the  exposures  and  the  wrath  to  come :  for, 
what  saith  the  scriptures.  Whatsoever  ye  have  spoken 
in  darkness  shall  be  heard  in  the  light ;  and  that  which 
ye  have  spoken  in  the  ear  in  closets  shall  be  proclaimed 
upon  the  house  tops, — God  shall  bring  every  work  into 
judgment,  with  every  secret  thing,  whether  it  be  good 
or  whether  it  be  evil. 

Who  should  not  own  in  such  remarkable  events  the 
hand  of  providence  ?     That  man  incurred  double  guilt, 

M  2 


258  CHRIST  IN  PROVIDENCE. 

who,  when  passing  dryshod  through  the  sea  between 
two  crystal  walls,  thought  no  more  of  God  than  you  or 
I,  perhaps,  have  done,  when,  on  a  bright  summer  day, 
beneath  the  flickering  shade  of  overhanging  trees,  and, 
on  a  carpet  of  heath  and  wild  flowers,  we  were  threading 
some  mountain  gorge.  He  too,  incurred  double  guilt, 
who,  having  risen  with  the  dawn,  and  left  his  tent,  ere 
the  sun  had  shot  one  slanting  ray  across  the  desert 
sands,  to  gather  food  fallen  fresh  from  dewy  skies, 
thought  no  more  of  God  than  yonder  merry  band,  that, 
with  talk  and  songs  and  laughter,  sweep  down  the  golden 
corn,  or,  when  sheaves  are  stacked  and  fields  are  cleared, 
*with  gleesome  dances  keep  harvest-home.  "  Go,  see 
now  this  cursed  woman,  and  bury  her,  for  she  is  a  king's 
daughter,"  were  Jehu's  orders ;  and  doubly  guilty  were 
his  messengers  if,  as  they  drove  off  the  dogs  that  were 
crunching  Jezebel's  skull,  and  saw  the  curse  of  an  avenging 
prophet,  they  thought  no  more  of  God's  righteous  judg- 
ments, than  does  the  rude,  brutal  mob  which  executions 
gather  from  low  lanes  and  alleys  around  a  gallows-tree. 
It  is  good  to  see  God's  hand  in  every  extraordinary 
event,  but  it  is  better  to  see  his  providence  in  every 
thing,  saying  with  David,  I  have  set  the  Lord  always 
before  me.  How  happy  is  such  a  frame  of  mind !  I 
cherish  the  memory  of  one  over  whose  chequered  life  it 
shed  a  perpetual  sunshine.  A  widow  with  a  helpless 
family,  she  had  literally  left  father  and  mother,  and 
house  and  lands,  for  Jesus'  sake,  and  had  had  her  full 
share  of  trials.  Yet  nothing  came  wrong  to  her ;  nor 
did  leaden  cares  ever  sit  long  or  press  heavy  on  her 
saintly  breast— hers,  a  bearing"  that  often  reminded  me 


CHRIST  IN  PROVIDENCE.  259 

of  the  beautiful  words  of  Luther,  when,  in  an  hour  of 
alarm  and  anxious  councils,  he  pointed  his  companion  to 
a  little  bird,  that,  perched  on  a  bending  branch,  was 
pouring  forth  a  gush  of  melody  in  the  ear  of  evening, 
and  said,  Happy  fellow  I  he  leaves  God  to  think  for 
him.  Do  that;  leave  God  to  think  for  you,  and  to 
care  for  you.  Let  clear-eyed  Faith  behold  Christ  on 
his  throne,  with  the  strong  hand  of  a  God,  and  the  sym- 
pathies of  a  man  guiding  in  heaven  the  helm  of  your 
fortunes,  and  you  may  go  to  sleep  in  the  rudest  storm. 
What  storm  should  hinder  him  whose  head  is  pillowed 
on  Jesus'  bosom,  and  who  feels  himself  enfolded  in  the 
arms  of  providence,  from  fulfilling  this  high,  this  happy 
command,  Be  careful  for  nothing  ;  but  in  everything  by 
prayer  and  supplication,  with  thanksgiving,  let  your 
requests  be  made  known  unto  God.  And  the  peace  of 
God,  which  passeth  all  understanding,  shall  keep  your 
hearts  and  minds  through  Christ  Jesus."  Child  of  God  ! 
take  your  rest.  He  who  keeps  watch  by  you,  never  sleeps. 

11.  God   in  Christ  presides   over  ordinary  as  well  as 
extraordinary  events. 

By  him  all  things  consist.  Every  object  in  nature 
is  impressed  with  his  footprints,  and  each  new  day 
repeats  the  wonders  of  creation.  Yes ;  there  is  not 
a  morning  we  open  our  eyes,  but  they  meet  a  scene 
as  wonderful  as  that  which  fixed  the  gaze  of  Adam 
when  he  awoke  into  existence.  Nor  is  there  an 
object,  be  it  pebble  or  pearl,  weed  or  rose,  the  flower- 


260  CHRIST  IN  PROVIDENCE. 

spangled  sward  beneath,  or  the  star-spangled  sky  above, 
a  worm  or  an  angel,  a  drop  of  water  or  a  boundless 
ocean,  in  which  intelligence  may  not  discern,  and  piety 
may  not  adore,  the  providence  of  Him  who  assumed  our 
nature  that  he  might  save  our  souls.  If  God  is  not  in 
all  the  thoughts  of  the  wicked,  he  is  in  everything  else. 
And  since  the  comfort  of  his  people  rests  so  much  on 
the  conviction  that  the  Lord  reigneth,  that  his  hand 
rules  every  event,  that  a  wise,  and  most  kind,  as  well  as 
holy  Providence  presides  over  our  daily  fortunes  and  all 
things  besides,  let  me  proceed,  by  some  famiHar  exam- 
ples, to  illustrate  that  noble  truth. 

1.  Let  me  show  you  Providence  in  a  snow-drop — a 
flower  we  all  know  and  love,  and  hail  as  the  fair  harbin- 
ger of  spring.  And  in  this  I  follow  the  example  of 
him  who  extracted  from  flowers  truths  more  beautiful 
than  their  colours,  more  precious  than  their  most  fragrant 
odours.  All  the  plants  that  clothe  and  adorn  the  earth 
with  such  varied  beauty,  and  combining,  as  is  God's 
way,  utility  wqth  beauty,  supply  food  to  the  animal 
creation,  depend  for  their  continued  existence  on  their 
flowers  turning  into  fruit.  Now,  the  fructification  of 
the  snow-drop  depends,  if  I  may  say  so,  on  the  modesty, 
in  it  as  elsewhere  the  usual  associate  of  purity,  with 
which,  shrinking  from  its  own  boldness,  it  hangs  its 
beautiful  head.  Let  it  lift  its  head  up  with  the  pride 
of  a  lily,  and  this  herald  of  spring  perishes  from  the  face 
of  the  earth,  like  the  race  of  a  childless  man.  But  God 
has  provided  against  such  an  event.  Wonderful,  and 
instructive  as  teaching  us  how  the  greatest  and  smallest 


CHRIST  IN  PROVIDENCE.  261 

things  in  providence  have  often  mutual  and  important 
connections,  this  vast  globe,  and  that  Httle  flower,  in 
regard  to  their  weight,  have  been  calculated  the  one  so 
to  suit  the  other,  that  its  bells  are  and  must  be  pendent. 
Drawn  downwards  by  the  force  of  gravity,  they  assume 
a  position  without  which  they  had  produced  no  fruit, 
yet  one  which  they  had  not  assumed,  had  our  planet 
been  no  larger  than  Mars  or  Mercury.  See,  then,  how 
God  takes  care  of  a  humble  flower  I  how  much  more  of 
you  and  of  your  families,  0  ye  of  little  faith ! 

2.  Let  me  take  an  example  from  a  circumstance 
which,  at  first  sight,  appears  to  shake  rather  than  to 
confirm  our  confidence  in  a  presiding  Providence.  That 
plants  may  produce  fruit  in  our  climate,  their  flowers, 
warmly  wrapped  within  the  folds  of  the  bud,  must  sleep 
the  winter  through — waiting  for  the  genial  breath  of 
spring,  and  the  embraces  of  a  summer  sun.  Well ;  we 
are  meditating  on  the  care  which  God  takes  of  many 
tender  plants,  by  either  wrapping  them  in  a  warm  mantle 
of  snow,  or  causing  them  to  seek  shelter  beneath  the 
surface,  when  our  meditations  are  suddenly  arrested, 
and  our  trust  in  God's  providence  is  at  first  sight  per- 
haps shaken,  by  a  plant  which  spreads  out  its  blossoms, 
like  unrequited  love,  to  the  cold  beams  of  the  winter 
day.  The  frost  has  bound  the  soil,  the  ice  has  chained 
the  streams,  and  the  hoary  rime,  like  a  work  of  magic, 
has  turned  every  tree  to  silver,  and  there  is  not  heat 
enough  in  the  keen  cutting  air  for  that  unhappy  flower 
to  produce  fruit.  It  is  with  it  as  with  our  souls 
when  God  withdraws  the  joys  of  salvation  and  the  in- 


CHRIST  IN  PROVIDENCE. 


fluences  of  his  Holy  Spirit.  There  is  something  wrong 
here  ?  No.  The  Maker  of  all  has  made  no  mistake. 
Nor  may  Deist,  Atheist,  or  sneering  scoffer  put  his  foot 
on  that  flower,  and,  to  crush  with  its  frail  form  our 
faith  in  provideace,  ask.  Where  is  now  thy  God  ?  Ask 
that  plant  its  history  !  It  speaks  with  a  foreign  accent ; 
the  truth  comes  out  that  God  never  made  it  to  dwell 
here ;  an  exile,  it  has  been  torn  from  its  native  home, 
and  still  clings,  like  other  exiles,  to  the  habits  and 
memories  of  its  fatherland.  Belonging  to  a  region 
where  the  day  is  longest  when  ours  is  shortest,  where 
they  pant  under  summer  heat  when  we  are  shivering  in 
winter  cold,  the  flowers  that  it  spreads  on  our  snowy 
ground  but  show  how  correctly  God  had  wound  it  up 
to  blow  in  its  proper  habitat  at  the  proper  season,  and 
how  clearly  his  providence  may  be  seen  even  in  the 
fading  blossoms  of  a  flower.  I  say  again,  if  God  takes 
such  care  of  plants,  how  may  you  trust  yourselves  and 
your  families  to  him  ?  What  may  you  not  trust  to  him, 
who  spared  nor  pains,  nor  pity,  nor  care,  nor  kindness, 
nor  even  his  beloved  Son,  but  gave  him  up  to  death, 
that  you  might  not  perish,  but  live  ? 

3.  Let  me  select  an  illustration  from  the  animal  king- 
dom. Over  the  honeycomb,  in  which  a  vulgar  taste,  in 
common  with  the  bear,  finds  only  the  means  to  gratify 
its  appetite,  the  philosopher  may  bend  with  admiration 
and  amaze.  He  can  have  little  reflection  who  has  not 
marked  the  beauty  and  delicacy  of  those  cells,  which, 
though  built  in  the  darkness  of  the  hive,  and  the  work 
of  a  humble  insect,  man,  with  his  reason  and  the  aids 


CHRIST  IN  PROVIDENCE.  263 


of  art,  attempts  in  vain  to  imitate.  Yet  there  is  here 
something  more  wonderful  than  beauty.  Examine  them 
closely.  See  how  each  has  the  same  number  of  sides 
with  its  fellow,  and  is  its  exact  counterpart.  Tn  that 
a  child  could  discern  plain  evidence  of  design  ;  but  there 
is  a  depth  of  wisdom  there  which  only  science  can  fathom. 
Repair  to  the  study  of  a  Newton,  of  one  who  is  tracking 
that  wandering  comet  on  its  fiery  path  into  the  far  realms 
of  space,  or  weighing,  not  the  Alps  or  Andes,  but  worlds 
in  the  scales  of  science,  and  ask  him — for  no  man  else 
can  solve  the  question,  simple  as  it  seems — to  find  out 
for  you  the  form  of  the  vessel  which  combines  with  the 
greatest  strength  the  largest  capacity  ?  Having  wrought 
out  this  problem  by  a  long  series  of  abstruse  calcula- 
tions, he  presents  the  result.  How  wonderful !  You 
find  such  a  vessel  in  the  cell  of  a  bee-hive ! 

I  dare  to  say  that  he  is  a  fool  who  ventures,  in  the 
face  of  such  a  fact,  to  deny  a  providence,  or  to  assert 
that  there  is  no  God.  Why,  at  a  period  in  man's  his- 
tory when  he  was  little  better  than  a  naked  savage, 
when  he  was  robbing  the  beast  of  his  skin  for  clothing 
and  of  his  rocky  den  for  a  home,  when  he  had  no  tools 
but  such  as  he  could  fashion  from  a  stone,  nor  vessels 
but  of  the  rudest  form  and  the  coarsest  clay,  this  humble 
insect  was  building  the  most  beautiful  fabrics  from  the 
most  delicate  materials,  with  the  skill  of  an  accomplished 
architect,  and  according  to  the  laws  of  a  high  philosophy. 
What  a  proof  of  an  over-ruling  providence  ?  and  that 
He,  who  teaches  birds  as  well  as  angels  to  sing,  guides 
the  movements  of  the  meanest  creatures — presiding  in 


264  CHRIST  IN  PROVIDENCE. 

a  hive  as  well  as  in  heaven !  Why,  then,  should  God's 
people  ever  despond  ?  What  can  be  too  hard  for  them  ? 
too  heavy  for  you  to  bear,  too  difficult  for  you  to  do ! 
He  is  with  you,  with  whom  all  things  are  possible.  And 
if,  by  the  most  feeble  creatures,  he  achieves  works  of 
such  skill  and  beauty,  how  may  you  take  heart  to  believe, 
that  by  the  aids  of  his  holy  Spirit,  and  the  help  of  the 
grace  promised  to  earnest  prayer,  you  shall  work  out 
even  your  salvation  with  fear  and  trembling  ;  God  work- 
ing in  you  both  to  will  and  to  do  of  his  good  pleasure  ? 
4.  Let  me  show  a  divine  providence  in  the  most 
common  circumstances  of  life.  Most  people  are  ready 
to  acknowledge  the  hand  of  God  in  such  events  as 
disease  and  death,  births  and  burials,  any  remarkable 
escape  from  danger,  some  either  very  favourable  or  un- 
favourable turn  in  their  fortunes.  Who  has  not  noted 
down  certain  occurrences  in  his  history  as  plainly  in- 
dicating a  providence?  Yet  the  largest  number  of 
men  have  their  type  in  the  son  rather  than  the  father, 
of  whom  this  circumstance  is  told.  They  had  parted  in 
the  morning,  not  to  meet  again  till  nightfall.  On  meet- 
ing, the  sou  said  that  he  had  been  most  wonderfully 
preserved ;  for  his  horse  had  thrown  him,  and  but  for 
God's  good  guardian  hand,  he  had  certainly  been  killed. 
Whereupon  his  father  replied  that  he  had  met  with  a 
yet  more  remarkable  providence,  had  still  more  cause 
to  praise  God ;  for,  he  added,  addressing  the  other, 
whose  curiosity  was  now  wound  up  to  the  highest  pitch 
in  expectation  of  some  strange  and  stirring  story — I  have 
travelled  the  livelong  day,  preserved  from  all  alarm  or 


CHRIST  IN  PROVIDENCE.  265 

accident  whatever.      Happy  the  man  who  thus  sets  the 
Lord  always  before  him ! 

Now,  for  an  example  of  providence  in  the  most 
common  things,  let  me  select  sleep — our  nightly  rest. 
"  He  giveth  his  beloved  sleep,"  "  Thou  boldest  mine 
eyes  waking,"  so  says  the  Bible  ;  and  events  occasionally 
place  that  truth  very  vividly  before  us.  Do  you  re- 
member a  terrible  shipwreck  which  occurred  not  many 
years  ago  on  our  west  coast,  and  how  those  who  were 
saved  out  of  a  large  number  that  perished,  owed  their 
life  to  one  wakeful  man?  He  was  no  watchman  of 
the  coast-guard,  no  pilot  on  the  look-out  for  homeward- 
bound  ships,  but  only  an  old  infirm  seaman,  who  had 
gone  to  bed  with  the  rest  of  the  world.  He  had  courted 
sleep  that  night ;  but,  for  no  reason  that  he  could  fancy, 
his  eyes  were  kept  waking.  Weary  of  turning  and 
tossing  on  a  sleepless  bed,  he  rose  and  walked  the  floor. 
With  an  old  sailor's  love  of  the  sea,  he  drew  aside  the 
curtain  of  his  cottage  window  to  gaze  out  on  the  heav- 
ing deep.  And  while  the  sight  of  it  was  waking  up 
the  memory  of  former  years,  his  eye,  ere  a  landsman 
could  have  descried  it,  caught  an  object  coming  shoreward 
through  the  gloom.  Horror  seizes  him.  Like  a  reck- 
less soul  bent  on  destruction,  it  is  an  ill-fated  ship  rush- 
ing on  that  iron-bound  coast,  and  right  into  the  jaws 
of  death.  Many  were  hurried  that  night  into  a  watery 
grave.  Yet,  but  for  the  circumstance  that  sleep  had 
fled  the  old  man's  couch,  but  for  the  alarm  he  gave, 
but  for  the  boats  that  were  launched  to  the  rescue, 
many  more    had   been  drowned,  and   some,   perhaps, 

N 


266  CHRIST  TN  PROVIDENCE. 

damned,  who,  converted  to  God,  are  now  living  to  his 
glory  on  earth,  or,  beyond  the  reach  of  all  storms,  safely 
housed  in  heaven.  God  held  his  eyes  waking  ;  he  had 
work  for  that  ancient  mariner  to  do. 

But,  to  take  an  example  on  a  scale  involving  world- 
wide interests,  I  can  show  that  not  the  life  of  individuals 
only,  but  the  existence  of  a  nation,  and,  since  the  Saviour 
sprang  from  that  nation,  the  salvation  of  the  world,  once 
turned  on  a  sleepless  night.  Strange,  yet  true  !  The 
king  of  Persia — like  many  other  kings,  a  mere  puppet 
in  the  hands  of  unprincipled  ministers — has  signed  a 
decree  to  exterminate  the  whole  Jewish  race.  Con- 
science, uneasy  for  the  deed,  does  not  keep  him  awake 
when  he  retires  to  rest  in  Shushan's  palace.  Her  hand 
has  planted  no  thorns  in  the  royal  couch,  yet  he  cannot 
sleep  ;  nor  is  there  balmy  virtue  in  silence,  or  wine,  or 
music,  to  make  his  weary  eyelids  drop.  It  is  strange 
that  he  cannot  sleep  ;  and  yet  more  strange  his  choice  of 
something  to  relieve  the  tediousness  of  the  night.  He 
calls  for  the  chronicles  of  his  kingdom.  Dry  reading, 
one  would  think ;  yet  you  know  the  issue,  and  how  the 
page  turning  up  that  related  the  story  of  Mordecai's  for- 
gotten service,  these  wakeful  hours  led  on  to  the  honour 
of  the  Jew,  the  hanging  of  Haman,  and  the  preservation 
of  the  race  from  which  our  Saviour  descended.  Was 
there  no  providence  in  that  ?  Was  it  accident  or  blind 
chance  which  kept  slumbers  that  night  from  the  downy 
pillow  ?  Accident,  that  instead  of  music,  the  revel,  the 
dance,  the  soft  arms  of  pleasure,  led  a  voluptuary  to  seek 
entertainment  in  the  musty  records  of  his   kingdom? 


CHRIST  IN  PROVIDENCE.  2€7 

Accident,  that  opened  the  book  where  it  recorded  the 
story  of  Hebrew  loyalty  ?  No.  I  believe  that  God's 
own  finger  turned  these  leaves,  and  held  the  king's  eyes 
waking.     He  had  work  for  that  king  to  do. 

These  events  draw  aside  the  veil.  We  see  all  the 
reins  that  guide  and  govern  the  world  gathered  into  the 
hands  of  God.  We  see  Jesus  standing  by  the  helm  of 
affairs ;  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  chance ;  that  his 
care  of  his  people  extends  to  the  most  common,  minute, 
and  apparently  trivial  matters  ;  how  even  waking  hours, 
or  dreamless  slumbers,  are  links  in  the  golden  chain  of 
providence.  A  happy  belief,  too  precious  to  be  parted 
with !  Let  the  thought  that  Jesus  watches  over  your 
fortunes,  and  guards  your  welfare,  and  guides  your  way, 
banish  every  care.  I  do  not  say  that  you  will  never 
be  disappointed,  but  certainly  you  ought  never  to  be 
discontented.  Many  things  in  your  circumstances  may 
occasion  anxious  thought,  but  nothing  should  occasion  or 
can  excuse  repining.  Child  of  God  !  he  has  numbered  the 
hairs  of  thy  head,  as  well  as  the  stars  of  heaven.  Charge 
of  angels  !  they  shall  keep  thee  in  all  thy  ways.  They 
shall  bear  thee  up  in  their  hands,  lest  thou  dash  thy 
foot  against  a  stone. 

By  him  all  things  consist ;  and  on  raising  our  eyes 
to  Jesus  exalted,  crowned,  enthroned,  with  the  govern- 
ment on  his  shoulder,  two  thoughts  suggest  themselves. 
First,  our  mind  reverts,  by  way  of  contrast,  to  Jerusalem, 
to  Calvary,  to  the  doleful  day  when  he  sank  beneath 
the  weight,  and  expired  amid  the  agonies  of  his  cross. 
If  he,  who  now  bears  the  weight  of  worlds,  once  staggered 


268  CHRIST  IN  PROVIDENCE. 


under  the  burden  of  our  sins,  oli !  what  an  incalculable, 
mysterious  load  of  guilt  must  there  be  in  sin !  It  bent  the 
back  that  bears  with  ease  the  burden  of  ten  thousand 
worlds.  That  load  you  cannot  bear  ;  and  if  you  would 
not  have  it  sink  your  souls  into  the  deepest  hell,  flee  to 
Calvary,  leave  it  at  the  cross.  Cast  sins  and  sorrows,  cast 
both  on  him  who  invites  the  burden,  saying,  Come  unto 
me,  all  ye  that  labour  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give 
you  rest.  Again,  beholding  Christ  thus  exalted  to  the 
right  hand  of  God,  we  think  of  the  security  of  his  people. 
They  are  to  watch  and  pray,  and  rejoice  with  trembling. 
Yet  they  cannot  sink  whom  he  holds  up,  nor  lose  the 
battle  on  whose  side  he  fights.  Believer,  what  art  thou 
doing,  going  groaning  through  the  world  beneath  a  load 
of  fears  and  cares?  What  should  discourage  thee? 
What  should  disturb  thy  peace  ?  What  ruffle  the  calm 
spirit  of  a  man  who  knows  that  the  hands  once  nailed 
for  him  to  the  tree  now  hold  the  helm  of  his  fortunes ; 
and  that  the  blessed  Saviour,  who  by  love's  golden 
sceptre  reigns  within  his  heart,  holds  sovereign  sway 
over  earth  and  heaven ;  and  by  both  bitter  and  sweet 
providences,  by  coflSns  and  cradles,  by  disappointments 
and  joys,  by  losses  and  gains,  shall  make  all  things  work 
together  for  good  to  them  that  love  God,  to  them  who 
are  the  called  according  to  his  purpose. 


THE  HEAD. 

He  is  the  head  of  the  body,  the  Church. — Colossianb  i.  18. 

A  T  a  celebrated  battle  there  was  one  position  from 
which  the  enemy,  after  suffering  defeat  in  every 
other  part  of  the  field,  kept  up  an  unabated  fire.  There, 
a  huge  twenty-four  pounder  vomited  forth  galling  and 
continuous  discharges  ;  nor  could  our  artillery,  nor 
musketry,  nor  riflemen,  silence  it  "  That  gun,"  said 
the  commanding  officer,  addressing  the  men  of  two 
regiments  in  a  few  brief,  brave  words,  "  must  be  taken 
by  the  bayonet.  I  must  have  it ;"  adding,  as  he  placed 
himself  at  their  head,  "  No  firing,  and  recollect  that  I 
am  with  you."  There  needed  no  more.  They  ad- 
vanced, the  grape  from  the  battery  crashing  through 
their  ranks.  They  fired  four  rolling  volleys  before  they 
charged ;  but  when  they  did  charge,  the  onset  was  irre- 
sistible. 

The  Importance  of  a  military  position  may  be  always 
estimated  by  the  determination  with  which  it  is  on  the 
one  hand  assailed,  and  on  the  other  hand  defended.  By 
this  test  I  have  been  able  to  discover  the  key  of  an  old 
battle-field.  Who  fought  there,  and  in  what  cause  they 
fell,  are  matters  about  which  history  is  altogether  silent : 


270  THE  HEAD. 


and  even  the  lingering  traditions  of  the  glen  are  dim  and 
vague,  like  objects  seen  through  its  grey  creeping  mists. 
Yet  the  hoary  cairns  that  are  scattered  on  rolling  moor 
and  rugged  hill  sides  tell  how  war  once  raged  over  that 
abode  of"  peace ;  and  how,  where  the  moorcock  crows 
to  the  morning,  and  the  shy  plover  rings  out  her  wail, 
and  lambs  chase  each  other,  or  playfully  engage  in  mimic 
fight  around  these  old  grey  stones,  men  once  had 
trampled  down  the  heather,  staining  it  of  a  deeper 
crimson  with  their  blood.  And  there,  where  the  rude 
monuments  of  the  dead  stand  crowded  together  for  want 
of  room,  we  know  that  the  opposing  tides  of  battle  met 
with  direst  shock,  and  human  passions  spent  their 
wildest  fury.  These  marks  of  hardest  fighting  and 
greatest  carnage  still  point  out  the  key  of  the  position — 
the  most  important  post  that  they  had  to  hold  or  win 
in  that  old  field  of  battle. 

According  to  this  rule,  we  should  conclude  that  the 
church  of  Christ  has  regarded  the  headship  of  her  Lord 
as  in  some  respects  the  very  key  of  her  position.  She 
has  maintained  it  as  not  the  least  important  of  the 
doctrines  which  she  has  been  charged  to  hold  against  all 
men — holding  them  to  the  death.  For  the  sake  of  this 
doctrine,  for  Christ's  crown,  for  his  sole  right  to  rule 
his  own  house,  and  to  regulate,  without  Caesar's  inter- 
ference, the  affairs  of  his  church,  her  largest,  costliest, 
and  most  painful  sacrifices  have  been  made.  And,  as  if 
there  was  an  instinct  of  grace  corresponding  to  that 
remarkable  instinct  of  nature  which  teaches  even  an 
infant,  in  the  act  of  falling,  to  throw  out  its  hands  and 


THE  HEAD.  271 


aiTQS,  and  save  the  head  at  the  expense  of  its  members, 
with  a  fidelity  that  has  done  her  honour,  the  church  has 
sacrificed  her  members,  and  lavishly  shed  her  blood  in 
support  of  Christ's  headship.  For  this  cause,  counting 
all  things  but  loss,  many  have  sufiered  the  spoiling  of 
their  goods;  many  have  gone  into  banishment  and  exile  ; 
many  have  ascended  the  scaffold  to  lay  down  their  heads 
on  the  block,  or,  embracing  the  stake  with  a  lover's 
ardour,  have  gone  to  heaven  in  a  chariot  of  fire,  to  wear 
the  crown  of  martyrdom,  and  learn  how  well  Christ 
keeps  the  promise,  Them  that  honour  me  I  will  honour. 
The  apostles  Peter  and  John  were  the  first  publicly 
to  maintain  this  doctrine.  At  their  parting,  our  Lord 
commanded  his  disciples  to  go  into  all  the  world,  and 
preach  the  gospel  to  every  creature;  and  when  the  Jewish 
rulers,  attempting  to  infringe  on  Christian  liberty,  com- 
manded them  not  to  speak  at  all,  nor  teach  in  the  name 
of  Jesus,  how  prompt  and  how  decisive  was  their  reply  ! 
It  leaves  Christian  men  in  corresponding  circumstances 
in  no  doubt  as  to  the  path  of  duty,  whether  they  have 
courage  to  take  it  or  not.  Hear  their  memorable  words : 
"  Whether  it  be  right  in  the  sight  of  God  to  hearken 
unto  you  more  than  unto  God,  judge  ye.  For  we  can- 
not but  speak  the  things  which  we  have  seen  and 
heard."  Nor  less  clear  and  decisive  this  reply  of 
Peter's,  on  being  charged  a  few  days  afterwards  with 
having  preached  contrary  to  the  injunctions  of  the 
civil  magistrate,  "  We  ought  to  obey  God  rather  than 
men."  Thus  plainly  did  these  men  assert  and  boldly 
maintain  the  doctrine  that  Christ  is  head  of  his  bodv, 


272  THE  HEAD. 


the  church.     They  would  have  held  it  treason  to  owu 
any  other  authority.      So  ought  we. 

It  becomes  not  man  to  be  proud  of  anything.  We 
have  defects  enough  to  clothe  us  with  humility.  And 
a  sense  of  many  sins  and  many  shortcomings  will  teach 
us,  for  any  grace  or  honour  we  may  possess,  to  ascribe 
glory  to  him  who  maketh  one  to  differ  from  another,  and 
out  of  the  mouth  of  babes  ordaineth  strength.  Yet,  as 
patriots,  we  may  be  permitted  to  dwell  with  gratification 
and  gratitude  on  the  fact,  that  since  the  day  when  the 
apostles  so  boldly  asserted  Christ's  sole  right  to  reign 
in  his  church,  and  to  regulate  all  matters  of  doctrine  and 
discipline,  government  and  duty  therein,  few  countries 
have  been  more  honoured  to  testify  and  to  suffer  for  that 
truth  than  has  our  own.  I  do  not  refer  only  to  recent 
events,  nor  to  the  long  and  bloody  struggles  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  nor  to  the  part  she  played  at  the 
glorious  Reformation.  Her  practical  testimony  to  this 
doctrine  dates  from  a  much  earlier  period.  Rude  in 
arts  and  rough  in  manners  as  our  forefathers  might  be, 
they  were  the  last  of  the  nations  to  bow  the  neck  to 
the  yoke  of  Popery.  Popish,  like  Pagan  Rome,  found 
our  countrymen  hard  to  conquer.  And  thus,  when  the 
lights  of  lona  were  extinguished,  and  nothing  was  left 
of  a  faith  comparatively  pure  but  the  lonely  cells  and 
ruined  sanctuaries  of  Culdee  worship,  the  dreary  period 
of  Popish  darkness  was  shorter  here  than  elsewhere — 
just  as  is  the  duration  of  night  on  those  rugged  storm- 
beaten  heights,  which  catch  the  morning  sun  before  it 
has   risen   on   the    valleys,   and    stand   up   glowing  in 


THE  HEAD.  273 


golden  light  when  the  shades  of  evening  have  wrapped 
these  in  deepening  dusky  gloom. 

And  after  the  era  of  the  Reformation,  who  does  not 
know,  who  has  not  read,  now  with  weeping  eyes,  and 
now  with  burning  indignation,  what  our  good  fore- 
fathers suffered  for  Christ's  crown  ?  It  was  dearer  to 
them  than  their  liberties  or  lives.  Handed  down,  like 
an  heirloom,  from  martyred  sire  to  son,  this  cause  is 
interwoven  with  our  nation's  history,  and  runs  through 
it  like  a  silver  thread.  It  runs,  I  may  say,  in  our  very 
blood.  We  have  imbibed  it  with  our  mother's  milk. 
Far  away  from  the  smoke  and  din  of  cities,  it  is  asso- 
ciated with  many  a  wild  weeping  glen,  the  dark  moss 
hag,  and  those  misty  mountains  where  our  fathers  were 
hunted  down  like  partridges.  There,  the  moss-grey 
stone  which  still  bears  the  rude  outlines  of  a  Bible 
and  a  sword,  is  regarded  with  veneration  by  a  pious 
peasantry ;  for  it  shows  that  here  a  true  man  fell,  and 
a  martyr  for  Christ's  kingly  crown  sleeps  in  his  lonely 
grave,  waiting  the  resurrection  of  the  just.  How  much 
of  its  undying  interest  does  our  city  owe  to  the  localities 
with  which  this  cause  is  associated !  There,  rose  the 
gallows,  on  which  the  best  and  worthiest  of  the  land 
were  hung  like  caitiffs ;  and  yonder,  half-way  between 
that  castle  and  the  palace,  stood  the  gate  above  which 
their  heads  sat  in  ghastly  rows,  bleaching  in  the  wind, 
and  rain,  and  sun.  In  the  neighbourhood  of  this  very 
church  we  seem  to  tread  on  sacred  ground.  This 
winding  street,  these  low-browed  windows,  these  old 
quaint    tenements   that    see   us    quietly  gathering   for 


274  THE  HEAD. 


Sabbath  worship,  were  crowded  two  hundred  years  ago 
with  the  spectators  of  a  different,  I  might  say  a  holier, 
certainly  a  more  stirring  scene.  "They  come!"  runs 
through  the  anxious  crowd,  and  fixes  every  wandering 
eye  on  the  advancing  procession.  And  there,  with  slow 
but  firm  step,  comes  hoar  old  age,  and  there,  noble 
manhood,  and  there,  most  wept  for  by  mothers  and 
maidens,  fair  gentle  youth — a  band  of  candidates  for 
martyrdom,  witnesses  for  Christ's  kingly  rights,  heroes 
who  esteemed  it  noble  for  such  a  cause  to  die.  In  truth, 
our  fathers  set  a  higher  value  on  Christ's  headship  than 
they  set  upon  their  own  heads  ;  and  for  that  cause  alone 
not  less  than  eighteen  thousand  were  faithful  unto  death 
during  the  long,  and  bloody,  but  glorious  years  of  perse- 
cution. They  have  gone  to  their  reward.  Called,  in 
some  form  or  other,  to  deny  ourselves,  and  take  up  our 
cross,  may  we  follow  them,  even  as  they  followed  Christ ! 
He  has  said,  "  Whosoever  loveth  father  or  mother  more 
than  me  is  not  worthy  of  me,  and  whosoever  loveth  son 
or  daughter  more  than  me  is  not  worthy  of  me,  and 
he  that  taketh  not  up  his  cross  and  followeth  me  is  not 
worthy  of  me.  He  that  findeth  his  life  shall  lose  it,  and 
he  that  loseth  his  life  shall  find  it. 

A  few  years  ago,  as  the  world  knows,  we  felt  our- 
selves called  on  to  revive  our  fathers'  testimony,  and 
shake  the  dust  of  two  centuries  from  their  time-worn 
banner.  We  had  a  cross  to  take  up.  Without  know- 
ing its  weight,  we  took  it  up.  And,  while  it  becomes 
us  to  confess  with  sorrow  before  God  and  man,  that 
human  passions  mingled  "  strange  fire "  with  our  ser- 


THE  HEAD.  275 


vice,  and  that,  fighting  sometimes  for  victory  as  much 
as  for  truth,  dross  adulterated  the  gold  of  our  ofifering, 
we  thought  then,  and  think  still,  that  ours  was  a  call 
of  duty,  and  a  righteous  cause.  We  were  martyrs 
neither  by  desire  nor  by  mistake.  But,  as  I  have  no 
wish  to  lay  open  old  wounds,  and  would  only  dwell  on 
those  views  of  this  doctrine  which  may  edify  the  whole 
church  and  promote  mutual  love,  I  will  only  say  fur- 
ther, that  I  hope,  and  trust,  and  pray,  that  the  more 
the  churches  are  called  to  suffer  for  Christ's  headship, 
they  will  hold  it  the  more  resolutely.  Never  fear. 
There  are  other  things  beside  the  sturdy  oak  which  the 
roaring  tempest  nurses  into  strength.  The  storms  that 
strip  the  tree  of  some  leaves,  perhaps  of  some  rotten 
branches,  but  moor  it  deeper  in  the  rifts  of  the  ever- 
lasting rock.  Christ's  words  cannot  fail,  On  this  rock 
have  I  built  my  church,  and  the  gates  of  hell  shall  not 
prevail  against  it. 

In  now  entering  on  the  subject-matter  of  my  text, 
I  remark — 

I.  That  Christ's  body  is  his  church. 

One  to  examine,  but  not  to  dissect,  while  all  other 
bodies  shall  die,  this  is  deathless.  "  Because  I  live," 
says  our  Lord,  "  ye  shall  live  also."  Paradox  as  it 
sounds,  this  body  is  ever  changing,  yet  unchangeable : 
different  and  the  same ;  an  undying  whole  formed  of 
dying  parts.  Strange!  yet  not  more  strange  than  many 
things  in  nature.     You  are  not  the  same  person,  for 


276  THE  HEAD. 


example,  who  worshipped  here  twelve  months  ago.  In 
name,  in  form,  in  features  the  same,  in  substance  you 
are  entirely  different.  Like  Michael  and  Satan,  who 
contended  for  the  body  of  Moses,  life  and  death  have 
been  contending  for  yours ;  death  attacking,  life  defend- 
ing ;  so  that,  the  former  constantly  repairing  what  the 
latter  is  constantly  destroying,  the  corporeal  forms  which 
we  animate  and  inhabit,  are  undergoing  such  rapid  as 
well  as  perpetual  change,  that  a  period  much  shorter 
than  seven  years  renews  our  whole  system.  Life  is 
just  a  long  siege ;  and,  though  death  triumph  in  the 
end,  looking  at  the  many  years  over  which  the  struggle 
is  protracted,  surely  we  are  fearfully  and  wonderfully 
preserved  as  well  as  made.  But  take  another,  and 
more  familiar  illustration.  Look  at  a  river.  The 
exile  returns  to  the  haunts  of  his  early  years,  and 
there,  emblem  of  the  peace  of  God,  the  river  flows 
as  it  flowed  when  his  life  was  young.  Tumbling  in 
snowy  foam  over  the  same  rock,  winding  its  snake- 
like way  through  the  same  verdant  meadows,  washing 
the  feet  of  the  same  everlasting  hills,  it  rushes  through 
the  glen  with  the  impetuous  passions  of  a  perpetual 
youth,  to  pursue  its  course  onward  to  the  ocean  that 
lies  gleaming  like  a  silver  rim  around  the  land.  A  grey 
old  man,  he  seats  himself  on  the  bank  where  wild  roses 
still  shed  their  blossoms  on  a  bed  of  thyme,  and  the  crystal 
pool  at  his  feet,  these  waters  foaming  round  the  old  grey 
stone,  that  bright  dancing  stream,  as  they  recall  many 
touching  memories  of  happy  childhood  and  companions 
dead  or  gone,  seem  the  same.     Yet  they  are  not.      The 


THE  HEAD.  277 


liquid  atoms,  the  component  parts  of  the  river,  have 
been  undergoing  perpetual  change.  Even  so  it  is  with 
the  church  of  Christ.  The  stream  of  time  bears  on  to 
eternity,  and  the  stream  of  grace  bears  on  to  glory, 
successive  generations,  while  the  church  herself,  like 
a  river  fed  by  perennial  fountains,  remains — unchange- 
able in  Christ's  immutability,  in  his  immortality  im- 
mortal. 

These  figures,  however,  fail  in  one  important  point. 
That  river  is  one.  The  body  is  one.  Unfortunately, 
the  churches  are  many,  split  into  such  numerous,  and, 
in  not  a  few  instances,  such  senseless  divisions,  that  I 
know  nothing  better  fitted  to  make  a  man  recoil  from 
the  spirit  of  sectarianism  than  to  see,  drawn  out  to  its 
full  length,  the  long,  wondrous,  weary  roll  of  the  various 
sects  that  exist  in  Christendom.  Fancy  all  these  urging 
their  claims  on  a  newly-converted  heathen !  What  a 
Babel  of  tongues !  With  what  perplexity  might  he  ask, 
amid  so  many  contending  factions,  Which  is  the  true 
church  and  body  of  Christ  ?     Let  us  see. 

Seven  sons  of  Jesse  are  summoned  into  Samuel's 
presence.  Goodly  men,  they  stand  before  him,  candidates 
for  the  crown  of  Israel.  But  they  cannot  all  be  kings  ; 
and  which  of  them  is  to  be  the  Lord's  anointed  ?  One 
after  another,  all  the  seven  are  rejected.  Amazed  at 
the  result,  the  prophet  turns  to  their  father,  saying, 
"  Are  here  all  thy  children  ?"  and  on  being  told,  "  There 
remaineth  yet  the  youngest,  and,  behold,  he  keepeth 
the  sheep,"  he  says,  "  Send  and  fetch  him,  for  we 
will  not  sit  down  till  he  come  hither."       A  messenger 


278  THE  HEAD. 


goes.  By  and  by,  feet  are  heard  at  the  door ;  it  opens  ; 
and,  little  dreaming  of  the  honours  that  await  him, 
David,  who  had  left  his  harp,  and  pipe,  and  playful 
lambs,  on  the  hills  of  Bethlehem,  enters — modesty,  and 
manliness,  and  beauty  in  that  countenance  which  was 
*'  goodly  to  look  to."  While  the  old  man  eyes  the  lad, 
as  he  stands  reverently  before  him,  a  voice  not  caught 
by  Jesse's  ear,  but  heard  by  Samuel's,  says,  "  Arise, 
anoint  him,  for  this  is  he." 

Now,  suppose  that  the  different  churches,  like  these 
sons  of  Jesse,  stood  before  us.  Whatever  may  be  made 
of  their  claims,  each  cannot  be  Christ's  true  body.  He 
has  but  one  church  ;  for  the  second  Adam,  Hke  the  first, 
is  the  husband  of  one  wife.  And  just  as  the  church 
cannot  have  two  heads,  neither  can  the  head  have  two 
bodies ;  for,  as  that  body  were  a  monster  which  had 
more  heads  than  one,  not  less  monstrous  were  that  form 
where  one  head  was  united  to  two  separate  bodies.  Of  all 
these  churches,  then,  each  claiming  to  be  cast  in  the  true 
gospel  mould — that  with  consecrated  bishops,  this  with 
simple  presbyters,  this  other  without  either;  that  ad- 
ministering baptism  to  infants  as  well  as  adults,  this 
only  to  adults  ;  that  robed  in  a  ritual  of  many  forms, 
this  thinking  that  religion,  like  beauty,  when  unadorned, 
is  adorned  the  most — which  is  Christ's  body,  the 
Lamb's  wife?  Which  are  we  to  receive  as  the 
favourite  of  heaven  ?  Of  which  does  God  say,  as  he 
said  of  David  among  rival  brethren.  Arise,  anoint  her, 
for  this  is  she  ?  Of  none  of  them.  Christ  has  a  church, 
but  it  is  none  of  these.     In  explanation  of  a  remark 


THE  HEAD. 


which  may  surprise  some,  and  is  fitted  to  teach  all  of  us 
humility  and  charity,  I  observe  — 

II.  That  Christ's  body,  which  is  not  identical  with  any 
one  church,  is  formed  of  all  true  believers,  to  what- 
ever denomination  they  may  belong. 

It  is  natural  for  men  to  be  partial  to  their  own 
sect.  Nor  do  I  quarrel  with  the  feeling,  if,  looking 
kindly  on  others,  you  are  ready  to  extend  the  hand  of 
fellowship  to  all  that  love  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 
Mothers  are  prone  to  think  their  own  children  lovelier 
than  their  neighbours';  and  nothing  is  more  natural 
than  that  we  should  say  of  our  own  denomination.  Many 
daughters  have  done  virtuously,  but  thou  excellest 
them  all.  That  is  no  breach  of  Christian  charity.  But 
to  foster  a  spirit  of  sectarianism,  and  thus  sin  against 
Christ's  spirit,  is  an  offence  as  great  as  to  sin  against 
his  truth.  In  some  respects,  indeed,  I  think  bigotry  is 
worse  than  heresy;  and  more  hateful  in  God's  sight 
than  error,  is  the  haughty  churchism  or  exclusive  self- 
righteous  pride  which  says  to  others,  "  Stand  by  thyself; 
come  not  near  me ;  for  I  am  holier  than  thou." 

"  The  king's  daughter  is  all  glorious  within ;  '*  but 
where  on  earth  is  the  church  which  will  stand  that  test  ? 
Where  is  the  church  that,  among  other  points  of  resem- 
blance to  the  ark,  has  not  the  unclean  as  well  as  clean 
within  its  walls,  raven  and  dove,  leopard  and  kid,  the 
cruel  lion  with  the  gentle  lamb  ?  Are  not  events  ever  and 
anon  occurring  to  remind  us  of  the  two  birds  Noah  sent 


280  THE  HEAD. 


forth  on  a  voyage  of  discovery  ?  Like  this  snow-white 
dove  on  weary  wing  returning  to  the  ark,  there  are 
souls  that  can  find  no  rest  in  sin  or  in  the  world,  or 
anywhere  away  from  God ;  happy  souls !  but,  alas,  there 
are  others,  also  tenants  of  the  ark,  like  yonder  foul 
raven,  that  croaks  and  flaps  his  wings  above  corruption, 
and  riots  on  the  carcasses  of  the  dead.  Such  characters 
as  the  last  are  found  in  the  purest  churches  ;  spots  on  the 
sun,  dead  flies  among  the  ointment.  Surely  it  behoves  us 
to  see  that  we  are  not  of  their  number.  For,  oh !  these 
are  sad  and  solemn  words.  Many  are  called,  but  few  are 
chosen.  And,  happier  than  Christ,  happier  than  Paul, 
that  pastor  must  have  a  small  and  select  flock  whose 
members  cost  him  no  anxiety,  neither  fears  nor  the  tears 
of  him  who  said,  Many  walk,  of  whom  I  have  told  you 
often,  and  now  tell  you  even  weeping,  that  they  are  the 
enemies  of  the  cross  of  Christ :  whose  end  is  destruction, 
whose  god  is  their  belly,  and  whose  glory  is  in  their 
shame,  who  mind  earthly  things. 

By  these  remarks  I  would  not  disparage  outward 
ordinances  and  forms.  They  are  valuable  in  their  own 
place  and  for  their  own  purposes ;  frames,  as  they  are, 
to  set  the  picture  in  ;  caskets  for  truth's  jewels ;  dead 
poles,  no  doubt,  yet  useful  to  support  living  plants,  and 
very  beautiful  when  the  bare  stem  is  festooned  with 
green  leaves,  and  crowned  with  a  head  of  flowers.  The 
church  of  Christ,  however,  is  not  to  be  identified  with 
this  or  that  other  form  either  of  government  or  worship. 
She  embraces  the  good  of  all  denominations,  and  rejects 
the    bad,    from    whatever    hands    they    have    received 


THE  HEAD.  281 


the  rite  of  baptism,  to  whatever  comrQunion  they  may 
belong,  however  pure  their  creed,  or  scriptural  their 
form  of  worship.  *' The  just  shall  live  by  faith,"  by 
nothing  else.  He  belongs  therefore  to  the  true  church 
who  believes;  and  he  who  believes  not,  to  wTiatever 
church  he  may  belong,  has  "neither  part  nor  lot  in  this 
matter."  "  He  that  believe th  and  is  baptized  shall  be 
saved  ;  but  he  that  believeth  not  shall  be  damned."  God 
help  us  to  lay  that  truth  to  heart,  and  to  embrace  the 
Saviour  as  he  is  offered  in  the  gospel ! 

I  have  seldom  heard  this  catholic  and  happy  doctrine 
more  pointedly  expressed  than  by  a  poor  woman  who 
dwelt  in  one  of  the  darkest  and  most  wretched  quarters 
of  our  city.  Away  from  her  native  home,  and  without 
one  earthly  friend,  she  had  floated  here,  a  stranger  in  a 
strange  land,  to  sink  into  the  most  abject  poverty ;  her 
condition  but  one  degree  better  than  our  Saviour's.  In 
common  with  the  fox,  she  had  a  hole  to  lay  her  head 
in.  Yet,  although  poor  and  outwardly  wretched,  she 
was  a  child  of  God,  one  of  the  jewels  which,  if  sought 
for,  we  should  sometimes  find  in  dust-heaps.  With 
a  bashfulness  not  unnatural,  she  had  shrunk  from 
exposing  her  poverty  to  the  stare  of  well-robed  con- 
gregations, resorting  on  Sabbath  days  to  the  well — 
appropriate  place — where  a  pious  man  was  wont  to 
preach  to  ragged  outcasts,  crying  in  the  name  of 
Jesus,  If  any  man  thirst,  let  him  come  unto  me,  and 
drink.  Supposing,  in  my  ignorance  of  this,  that  she 
was  living,  like  the  mass  around  her,  in  careless  neglect 
of  her  soul,  I  began  to  warn  her.  Nor  shall  I  soon 
N  2 


THE  HEAD. 


forget  how  she  interrupted  me,  and,  drawing  herself  up 
with  an  air  of  humble  dignity,  and  half  offended,  said, 
Sir,  I  worship  at  the  well ;  and  am  sure  that  if  we 
are  true  believers  in  Jesus,  and  love  him,  and  try  to 
follow  him,  we  shall  never  be  asked  at  the  judgment 
day,  Where  did  you  worship  ?  Well  said,  and  well  shot, 
thou  poor  one  ;  that  arrow  hits  the  mark !  And  as  I 
hold  no  other  creed,  nor  admit  anything  to  be  of  vital 
importance  but  genuine  heaven-born  faith,  let  me  ask. 
Are  you  true  believers  ?  Blessed  are  you  !  Blessed  is  he 
whose  transgression  is  forgiven,  whose  sin  is  covered ! 
Are  you  unbelievers,  impenitent,  ungodly  ?  You  may  by 
profession  belong  to  a  church  which  holds  the  head,  and 
holds  truth,  and  has,  in  God's  providence,  been  honoured 
to  testify  and  suffer  for  it;  but  what  of  that?  There  is 
no  safety  in  that.  On  the  contrary,  you  appear  only 
the  more  offensive  to  a  holy  God.  A  spot  looks  worst 
on  the  face  of  beauty ;  Satan  looked  most  hateful 
when  he  stood  among  the  sons  of  God ;  and,  as  I  have 
observed  at  funerals  in  the  winter  time,  skulls  never  look 
so  grim,  nor  the  churchyard  mould  so  black,  as  when 
they  have  been  flung  on  a  bank  of  snow.  Trust  not 
in  your  church,  nor  say,  "  The  temple  of  the  Lord,  the 
temple  of  the  Lord  are  we."  Judgment  shall  begin  at 
the  house  of  God. 

in.  Christ's  body,  in  a  sense,  embraces  all  those  churches 
which  hold  the  essential  truths  of  the  gospel. 

It  was  the  misfortune  of  Europe  that  Charles  V. 


THE  HEAD.  283 


did  not  learn  at  an  early  period  of  his  life  the  lesson 
which  he  was  afterwards  taught  in  a  Spanish  cloister. 
It  had  saved  him  much  treasure,  the  world  much  blood- 
shed, and  his  soul  much  sin.  After  vainly  attempting 
to  quench  the  light  of  the  Reformation,  and  make  all 
men  think  alike,  this  great  monarch,  resigning  his  crown, 
retired  to  a  monastery.  Wearied,  perhaps,  with  the 
dull  round  of  mechanical  devotions,  he  betook  himself, 
in  the  mechanical  arts,  to  something  more  congenial 
to  his  active  mind.  After  long  and  repeated  efforts,  he 
found  that  he  could  not  make  two  time-pieces  go  alike, 
two  machines,  that  had  neither  mind  nor  will,  move 
in  perfect  harmony.  Whereupon,  it  is  said,  he  uttered 
this  memorable  reflection.  What  a  fool  was  I  to  attempt 
to  make  all  men  think  alike !  Unfortunately  for  the 
peace  of  the  church  and  for  the  interests  of  Christian 
charity,  Charles  the  king  has  had  more  followers  than 
Charles  the  philosopher. 

There  is  a  broad  line  of  distinction  between  the 
essentials  and  the  circumstantials  of  the  faith.  Yet 
what  violent,  what  unnatural  attempts  at  uniformity 
have  men  made,  as  if  uniformity  were  a  law  of  God ! 
It  is  on  no  such  model  that  he  has  constructed  our 
world.  God,  while  he  preserves  unity,  dehghts  in  va- 
riety. A  dull,  dreary,  uninteresting  uniformity,  is  quite 
foreign  to  nature.  Look  at  the  trees  of  the  forest !  all 
presenting  the  same  grand  features,  what  variety  in  their 
forms !  Some,  standing  erect,  wear  a  proud  and  lofty 
air ;  some,  modest-like,  grow  lowly  and  seek  the  shade  ; 
some,  like  grief,  hang  the  head  and  have  weeping  branches; 


284  THE  HEAD. 


some,  like  aspiring  and  unscrupulous  ambition,  climb 
up  by  means  of  others,  killing  what  they  climb  by; 
while  some,  rising  straight  and  tall,  with  branches  ah 
pointing  upwards,  present  in  their  tapering  forms 
emblems  of  the  piety  that  spurns  the  ground  and  seeks 
the  skies.  Or  look  at  the  flowers,  what  variety  of  gay 
colours  in  a  meadow !  Or  look  at  mankind,  what 
variety  of  expression  in  human  faces,  of  tones  in  human 
voices !  There  are  no  two  faces  alike,  no  two  flowers 
alike,  no  two  leaves  alike,  I  believe  no  two  grains  of 
sand  alike.  In  that  variety  God  manifests  his  exhaust- 
less  resources,  and  Nature  possesses  one  of  her  most 
attractive  charms.  And  why  insist  on  all  men  observ- 
ing a  uniform  style  of  worship,  or  thinking  alike  on 
matters  that  are  not  essential  to  salvation  ?  You  might 
as  well  insist  on  all  men  wearing  the  same  expres- 
sion of  face,  or  speaking  in  the  same  tone  of  voice ; 
for  1  believe  that  there  are  as  great  natural  and  consti- 
tutional differences  in  the  minds  as  in  the  bodies  of 
men. 

How  tolerant  was  Paul  of  differences !  Forgetting 
how  he  bore  even  with  errors  which  would  now-a-days 
call  down  prompt  excommunication  on  their  authors, 
men,  insisting  on  uniformity  in  the  mere  circumstan- 
tials of  religion,  have  rent  the  church  and  sown  the 
seeds  of  discord  far  and  wide.  Praying  all  the  while  for 
the  peace  of  Jerusalem,  they  have  made  the  church  of 
Christ  present  such  a  melancholy  spectacle  as  Jerusalem 
itself  exhibited  when,  the  Roman  without  and  famine 
within,  different  factions  raged   in   the   city,   and   the 


THE  HEAD.  285 


Jews,  fired  by  ferocious  passions,  plunged  their  swords 
into  each  other's  bosoms. 

His  church  has  not  followed  her  Lord's  example. 
They  were  thieves  and  murderers  whom  Christ  cleared 
out  of  the  temple.  But,  struck  with  frenzy,  aiming  at 
an  impossible  uniformity,  his  followers  have  driven  their 
brethren  out,  while  Religion  has  stood  by,  w^ringing  her 
hands,  like  Rachel  weeping  for  her  children,  because  they 
were  not.  No  man,  says  the  Bible,  hateth  his  own 
flesh.  What  sane  man  consents  to  part  with  an  arm 
or  limb  unless  it  be  dead  or  incurably  diseased?  But 
churches,  possessed,  if  not  of  a  devil,  yet  of  the  greatest 
folly,  have  cut  off  their  living  members  for  no  other 
offence  than  some  small  differences,  some  petty  trifling 
sore,  which  the  progress  of  time  or  the  balm  of  kindness 
would  have  healed.  I  do  not  deny  that  there  have 
been  justifiable  separations.  There  must  needs  be 
offences ;  and  it  does  not  follow  that  the  woe  pro- 
nounced on  those  by  whom  offences  come  falls  on  the 
party  stigmatised  as  separatists.  It  is  they  who,  creat- 
ing wrongs  or  refusing  redress,  compel  men  of  tender 
conscience  to  leave  a  church,  that  are  guilty,  if  there 
be  schism,  of  its  sin. 

Divisions  are  bad  things.  Do  not  fancy  that  I 
have  any  sympathy  with  those  who,  confounding  charity 
with  indifference,  regard  matters  of  religion  as  not  worth 
disputing  about.  Such  a  state  of  death  is  still  worse 
than  war.  Give  me  the  roaring  storm  rather  than  the 
peace  of  the  grave.  Division  is  better  than  such  union 
as  the  frost  produces,  when  with  its  cold  and  icy  fingers 


\ 


286  THE  HEAD. 

it  binds  up  into  one  dead,  congealed,  heterogeneous 
mass,  stones  and  straws,  pearls  and  pebbles,  gold  and 
silver,  iron  and  clay,  substances  that  have  nothing  in 
common.  Yet  divisions  are  bad  things.  They  give 
birth  to  bad  passions.  They  cause  Ephraim  to  envy 
Judah,  and  Judah  to  vex  Ephraim.  Therefore,  what 
we  ought  to  aim  at,  is  to  heal  them,  and  where  we  can- 
cannot  heal  them,  to  soften  their  asperities.  "  Blessed 
are  the  meek,  for  they  shall  inherit  the  earth."  "  Blessed 
are  the  peacemakers ;  they  shall  be  called  the  children 
of  God."  If  for  conscience's  sake  Christian  men  must 
part,  oh,  that  they  would  part,  saying  with  Abraham, 
Let  there  be  no  strife,  I  pray  thee,  between  me  and 
thee,  for  we  are  brethren.  Separate  thyself,  I  pray 
thee,  from  me  :  if  thou  wilt  take  the  left  hand,  then  I 
will  go  to  the  right;  or  if  thou  depart  to  the  right 
hand,  then  I  will  go  to  the  left. 

"  The  righteous  shall  flourish  like  the  palm  tree." 
But  it  may  not  be  the  will  of  God  that  his  church,  in 
its  collective  character,  should  ever  present,  in  this  world, 
the  characteristic  feature  of  that  beautiful  tree.  The 
palm  has  a  peculiar  port.  It  rises  tall  and  graceful  in 
one  straight  stem  without  a  single  branch,  up  to  the 
leafy  plumes  that  wave  above  the  desert  sands  and  form 
its  graceful  crown.  The  church,  throwing  out  many 
goodly  and  fruitful  boughs,  may  ever  present  apparent 
variety  in  actual  unity — like  that  giant  oak  which,  with 
its  roots  in  the  rock  and  its  head  in  the  skies,  throws 
out  many  a  branch  to  catch  the  blessed  gifts  of  heaven 
in  dews,  aud  showers,  and  sunbeams.     We  hear  much 


THE  HEAD.  287 


about  the  unity  of  the  church.  And  how  often  has  it 
been  made  to  serve  the  interests  of  falsehood,  how  often 
has  it  been  used  as  a  spell,  wherewith  cunning  priests 
have  bound  simple  men  to  systems  of  gross  error? 
Rightly  understood,  the  unity  of  the  church  is  by  no 
means  incompatible  with  the  existence  of  different  deno- 
minations. What  are  they  but  the  branches  of  a  tree 
which  still  is  one ;  one  in  root,  one  in  stem,  one  in  sap, 
one  in  flower,  and  one  in  fruit.  We  have  one  faith, 
one  spirit,  and  one  baptism.  We  are  united  in  Christ ; 
we  meet  in  that  centre ;  and,  like  the  radii  of  a  circle, 
the  nearer  we  approach  our  common  centre,  the  nearer 
we  draw  to  Christ,  we  shall  be  the  nearer  to  each  other. 
Let  us  gladly  recognise  a  common  brotherhood,  and 
love  one  another,  even  as  Christ  loved  us.  Members 
of  the  same  family,  travellers  to  the  same  home,  called 
with  the  same  holy  calling,  let  us  ever  remember  the 
words  of  Joseph  to  his  brethren,  See  that  ye  fall  not 
out  by  the  way. 

But  of  all  the  forms  of  imagery  under  which 
Christ's  church  is  set  forth,  I  prefer  that  in  my  text. 
Bringing  out  as  well  as  any  other  our  relationship 
to  Christ,  and  better  than  any  other  our  relationship 
to  each  other,  it  teaches  us  the  most  blessed  lessons 
of  love,  and  charity,  and  tender  sympathy.  When 
bill-hook  or  pruning-knife  lops  a  branch  from  the  tree, 
the  wounded  stem  bleeds,  and  seems  for  a  while  to  drop 
some  tears  of  sorrow,  but  they  are  soon  dried  up ; 
the  other  boughs  suffer  no  pain,  show  no  sympathy, 
their  leaves  dance  merrily  in  the  wind  over  the  poor  dead 


288  THE  HEAD. 


branch  that  lies  withering  in  their  shade.  But  sym- 
pathy pervades  the  body  and  its  members.  Touch  my 
finger  roughly,  and  the  whole  body  feels  it;  wound 
this  foot,  and  the  pang,  thrilling  through  my  frame, 
shoots  upward  to  the  head ;  let  the  heart,  or  the  head, 
or  even  a  tooth  ache,  and  all  the  system  suffers  disorder. 
With  what  tenderness  is  a  diseased  member  touched ! 
What  anxious  efforts  do  we  make  to  save  a  limb ! 
With  what  slow  reluctance  have  I  seen  a  wasted  patient, 
after  months  or  even  long  years  of  suffering,  consent  to 
the  last  remedy,  the  surgeon's  knife !  What  holy  lessons 
of  love,  charity,  sympathy,  does  Christ  therefore  teach 
us  by  the  figure  of  my  text!  We  have  differences; 
but  do  these  form  any  reason  why  we  should  not  love 
each  other,  give  and  forgive,  bear  and  forbear,  suffer  and 
sympathise,  one  with  another;  and  agreeing  to  differ, 
walk  together  as  far  as  we  are  agreed?  Let  us  keep 
"  the  unity  of  the  Spirit  in  the  bond  of  peace."  These 
differences  are  like  our  dark  cold  shadows,  that,  little  at 
noon,  grow  larger  as  night  approaches,  assuming  a 
gigantic  size  when  the  sun  creeps  along  the  horizon  of  a 
winter  sky,  or  hangs  low  at  his  rise  or  setting.  Sun  of 
Righteousness !  rise  higher  and  higher  over  us,  till  in 
thy  light  and  love  the  church  enjoys  the  full  blaze  of 
thy  meridian  beams,  and  these  shadows  all  but  vanish  ! 
For  this  blessed  end,  God  of  love,  pour  out  thy  Spirit 
more  affluently  on  the  churches  !  Then  shall  the  brethren 
dwell  together  in  unity,  and  the  world  say,  as  it  said  in 
the  days  of  old.  See  how  these  Christians  love  one 
another ! 


THE    HEAD, 

{Continued.) 
He  is  the  head  of  the  body,  the  Church. — Colossians  i.  18. 

/^OD  ''  is  not  the  author  of  confusion."  So  in  the 
beginning  he  established  a  harmony  on  earth  as  per- 
fect as  that  of  heaven.  Nothing  was  out  of  tune,  nor  was 
there  a  jarring  note  in  all  creation.  But  how  many  and 
great  discordances  have  the  devil  and  sin  introduced  ? 
Can  any  man,  who  looks  abroad  on  the  world,  shut  his 
eyes  to  the  fact  that  much  is  out  of  order,  that  many 
things  are  out  of  joint,  and  that  we  do  not  always  find,  to 
use  a  common  saying,  the  right  man  in  the  right  place  ? 
Sceptres  fall  from  the  strong  grasp  of  great  men  into 
feeble  hands.  The  sweat  of  labour  stands  on  begrimed 
and  dusty  brows  that  are  fitted  to  wear  a  coronet  or  a 
crown.  He  ploughs  the  rugged  soil,  who  has  a  hand  to 
guide  the  helm  of  church  or  state.  Men  sit  in  the  pews, 
that  have  piety  and  talents  to  adorn  the  pulpit.  Money 
flows  in  on  those  who,  unlike  the  lake  that  gives  as  it 
gets,  have  no  generous  outgoings  that  correspond  to 
their  income ;  like  water  in  foul  stagnation,  or  wasted 
on  a  bed  of  sand,  what  is  lost  to  others  is  no  true  gain 
to  them.     Poverty,  on  the  other  hand,  though  not  the 


290  THE  HEAD. 


curse,  is  the  cross  of  many  a  liberal  soul.  Many  people 
in  the  world  have  the  power  to  bless  others,  but  are  eaten 
up  by  their  own  wretched  selfishness ;  while  others 
have  the  will  to  do  good,  but  lack  the  power.  So  many 
things  are  discordant,  so  different  from  what  they  should 
be,  and  but  for  sin  had  been,  that  religion  only  can 
reconcile  a  man  to  the  world,  and  enable  him,  from 
circumstances  which  embitter  and  exasperate  the  spirit 
of  the  ungodly,  to  draw  lessons  of  faith  and  patience. 
Yielding  neither  to  envy  nor  to  covetousness,  a  good 
man  bows  to  the  will  of  Providence.  Using  no  violence 
to  set  wrong  things  right,  he  waits  the  advent  of  a 
better  world,  having  "  learned,  in  whatsoever  state  he  is, 
therewith  to  be  content." 

Among  other  anomalies,  we  see  that  the  moral  and 
physical  properties  of  men  are  often  out  of  keeping. 
I  have  found  a  kind,  gentle,  and  most  loving  heart  under 
a  rough  exterior,  reminding  me  of  the  milk  and  meat 
stored  up  within  the  cocoa-nut's  dry,  hard,  husky  shell. 
On  the  other  hand,  look  at  Absalom !  What  winning 
manners,  what  grace  and  beauty,  how  much  of  all  that 
in  form  and  features  pleases  the  eye  and  ministers  to 
the  pride  of  life,  are  united  in  that  man  to  the  greatest 
moral  baseness  I  as  if  God  would  show  us  in  how  little 
esteem  he  holds  what  he  threw  away  on  so  bad  a  man ; 
as  if  he  intended  to  rebuke  the  silly  vanity  which  wor- 
ships at  a  mirror,  and  feeds  on  charms  that  shall  feed 
the  worms  of  the  grave.  Nor  is  his  the  only  case  where 
a  fair  form  has  lodged  a  foul  heart,  and  crimes  of  treachery 
and  murder  have  stained  the  hands  of  beauty. 


THE  HEAD.  291 


Again,  we  often  see  that  the  mental  does  not  cor- 
respond with  the  corporeal  development.  The  finest 
genius  has  not  seldom  been  enshrined  in  a  poor  crazy- 
casket  ;  or  in  a  coarse  one,  like  a  pearl  within  its  rough 
sea-shell.  Little  men  have  done  mighty  things.  The 
boldest  daring  has  been  united  with  a  puny  presence ; 
and  how  did  that  great  emperor,  who  in  our  days  aspired 
to  be  another  Alexander,  illustrate  the  poet's  words — 

"  The  mighty  soul  how  small  a  body  holds." 

On  the  other  hand  it  was,  at  least  in  some  respects,  a 
weak  head  that  stood  on  the  broad  shoulders  of  Samson  I 
Whom  the  Philistines  could  not  subdue,  a  woman  con- 
quered, binding  with  her  charms  one  whom  they  could 
not  bind  with  their  chains.  He  fell  before  the  influence 
that  in  Solomon's  case  made  the  wisest  the  most  foolish 
of  men.  God  says,  In  vain  the  net  is  spread  in  the  sight 
of  any  bird ;  yet  see  how  Samson  walks  straight  in,  snared 
by  a  cunning  transparent  to  all  eyes  but  his  own.  En- 
slaved by  animal  passions,  asleep  in  Delilah's  traitorous 
lap,  a  fettered  captive  in  the  hands  of  the  Philistines, 
there  he  lies,  a  great  lion  in  the  hunter's  net ;  reminding 
us,  by  way  of  contrast,  of  the  words,  "  Wisdom  is  better 
than  strength  ;  wisdom  is  better  than  weapons  of  war." 
An  example  also  of  discordancy,  but  with  mind  tow- 
ering aloft  over  matter,  what  a  noble  contrast  does 
Paul  present  to  Samson  !  There  is  nothing  in  the 
outward  man  to  attract  the  gazer's  eye.  According  to 
ancient  tradition,  he  was  a  poor,  mean-looking  figure. 
His  presence,  said  his  enemies,  is  weak,  and  his  speech 


THE  HEAD. 


contemptible.  But  put  his  parchments  before  him,  put 
a  pen  in  his  hand,  and,  higher  than  the  bird  ever  flew 
from  whose  wing  it  dropped,  he  soars  away  into  a  hea- 
ven of  thought,  or,  coming  down  with  an  eagle's  swoop, 
descends  further  than  any  man  before  or  since  into  the 
deepest  depths  of  gospel  mysteries.  Or^  give  him  liberty 
of  speech ;  place  him  on  Mars'  Hill  to  expound  his 
despised  faith,  or  let  him  stand,  on  his  defence  at  the 
bar  of  kings,  like  a  lion  at  bay.  Indifierence  gives 
place  to  interest,  contempt  changes  into  admiration, 
the  audience  is  hushed,  and,  amid  breathless  silence,  he 
sways  the  multitude  with  a  master's  hand,  his  puny 
form  seeming  to  rise  to  a  giant's  stature.  He  seizes 
error,  and  rends  it  as  Samson  rent  the  lion  ;  he  lays 
these  arms  of  his  on  the  colossal  pillars  of  Time's  oldest 
superstitions,  shakes  the  hoary  fabric,  and  pulls  it  down 
into  the  dust,  burying  gods  and  goddesses  in  one  com- 
mon ruin. 

The  casket  affords  no  test  by  which  to  estimate 
the  value  of  the  jewel.  The  boards  and  binding  of  a 
book  suggest  no  idea  of  the  brilliant  thoughts  that  are 
scattered,  like  stars,  over  its  pages.  So,  in  this  dis- 
cordant state,  you  cannot  judge  the  inner  by  the  outer 
man,  the  head  or  the  heart  by  the  body  which  they 
rule  and  animate.  That  observation  applies  to  the 
most  sacred  things.  The  church  of  Christ  herself  pre- 
sents the  greatest  of  anomalies.  And  it  would  do  our 
Lord  the  greatest  injustice,  if,  overlooking  that  fact,  we 
were  to  judge  the  head  by  its  body,  and  argue  from 
what  Christians  are,  what  Christ  himself  must  be. 


THE  HEAD.  293 


Neither,  in  the  first  place,  in  our  own,  nor  in  any 
other  existing  churcn,  do  we  see  the  real  body  of  which 
Jesus  Christ  is  the  head.  Its  members  consist  of  all 
true  believers,  and  are  dispersed  over  the  wide  lands  of 
Christendom.  Then,  what  are  the  best  churches,  at  the 
best,  but  gold  mines  ?  Some  may  be,  some  certainly 
are,  richer  than  others  in  the  precious  metal,  yet  all 
have  their  dross  and  rubbish.  Nor,  to  continue  the 
figure,  shall  the  true  church  become  visible,  appear  as  a 
distinct  and  separate  body,  till  the  gold,  gathered  from 
a  hundred  mines,  and  purified  by  a  Spirit  whose  emblem 
is  fire,  and  presenting  to  the  divine  Refiner  a  perfect 
image  of  himself,  is  run  into  a  common  mould.  Be- 
sides, while  the  materials  of  this  church  are  widely 
scattered,  and  much  of  the  ore  yet  lies  buried  in  the 
mine,  none  of  them  are  pure  ;  none  perfect.  Who  can 
say  that  he  has  no  sin  ?  There  is  no  man  that  sinneth 
not.  Nor  is  there  any,  though  he  has  come  in  contact 
with  the  finest  specimens  of  piety,  and  has  been  happy 
enough  to  breathe  the  holiest  atmosphere  of  Christian 
society,  who  is  not  ready  with  the  wise  man  to  say,  I 
have  seen  an  end  of  all  perfection. 

To  change  the  figure,  the  materials  of  the  heavenly 
temple  are  now  under  the  hammer,  and  by  hard  strokes 
of  fortune  and  rough  providences,  as  well  as  by  the  ordi- 
nary means  of  grace,  God  is  preparing  these  living  stones 
to  be  removed  by  the  hand  of  death,  and  set  in  a  temple 
where  no  sound  of  hammer  is  heard.  The  church  is  in 
process  of  building.  And  no  more  than  any  other  builder 
is  Christ  to  be  judged  by  his  work,  till  he  has  brought  his 


294  THE  HEAD. 


labours  to  a  close.  Then,  when  from  the  most  excellent 
majesty,  the  voice  once  heard  on  the  cross  cries  again, 
*'  It  is  finished,"  when  he  shall  bring  forth  the  headstone 
thereof  with  shoutings  of  "  Grace,  grace  unto  it,"  when 
the  scafi*olding  of  present  ordinances  is  removed,  when  the 
heavens  which  concealed  it  are  rolled  up  like  a  curtain, 
how  shall  that  temple,  of  such  proportions  and  surpassing 
splendour,  stand  forth  the  admiration  of  the  universe,  its 
greatest  wonder,  and  God's  brightest  glory  !  Then,  to 
take  up  the  metaphor  of  my  text,  the  body  will  be  worthy 
of  the  head,  as  the  head  is  the  glory  of  the  body. 

I.  As  Head  of  his  church,  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  is  the 
life  of  its  members. 

You  do  not  need  to  be  anatomists  to  know  that,  as 
the  head  is  the  highest,  it  is  the  noblest,  most  important 
part  of  our  whole  frame.  Seat  of  the  senses  and  shrine 
of  the  soul,  it  is  more  than  any  other  part  connected 
with  life  and  its  various  functions.  From  this  great 
source  and  centre  of  vital  power  the  other  organs  draw 
all  their  energies.  Paralyse  those  nerves  which  connect 
them  with  the  brain,  as  the  wires  of  the  telegraph  con- 
nect the  different  stations  with  the  electric  battery,  and 
their  powers  are  gone,  instantly  gone.  Their  functions 
cease  ;  the  eye  has  no  sight ;  the  ear  no  hearing ;  the  lips 
no  voice ;  the  tongue  tastes  neither  sweetness  in  honey 
nor  bitterness  in  wormwood  ;  the  strong  arm  of  labour 
hangs  powerless  by  the  side ;  nor  is  there  power  left  to 
lift  a  foot,  though  the  lifting  of  it  were  to  save  your 


THE  HEAD.  295 


life.  The  whole  machinery  of  this  wonderful  frame  stops, 
like  that  of  a  mill  when  you  shift  the  sluices,  and  turn 
the  water  off  its  dashing  wheel.  Indeed  so  intimately 
connected  are  the  head  and  the  body,  that  one  cannot 
exist  without  the  other.  In  her  freaks,  no  doubt,  Nature 
does  produce  strange  monsters,  which,  though  deficient, 
some  of  this  and  some  of  that  part,  contrive  to  live  ; 
and  it  is  marvellous  to  see  what  formidable  lesions  the 
body  can  suffer,  of  what  valuable  members  it  may  be 
maimed,  and  yet  survive.  But  the  loss  of  the  head  is 
the  loss  of  life.  Death  descends  on  the  knife  of  the 
guillotine.  A  bullet  whistles  through  the  parting  air, 
the  lightning  flashes,  the  sword  of  the  headsman  gleams 
in  the  sun,  and — there  is  a  corpse !  before  the  eye  has 
winked,  the  man  is  dead,  stone  dead. 

In  illustrating  the  doctrine  and  figure  of  my  text, 
this  leads  me  to  remark — 

1.  As  head  of  his  church,  Jesus  Christ,  by  means  of 
the  connection  which  grace  establishes  between  him 
and  the  believer,  maintains  our  spiritual  life.  Without 
me,  he  says,  ye  can  do  nothing.  As  all  our  wishes, 
words,  and  works,  however  they  may  be  expressed  in 
looks,  and  sounds,  and  bodily  movements,  are  born  in 
the  brain,  there  is  not  a  good  wish  we  ever  formed, 
a  good  word  we  ever  spoke,  a  good  work  we  ever 
did,  but  Christ  was  its  fountain-head.  Separated  from 
him,  a  believer  were  no  better  than  an  eye  plucked 
from  its  socket,  a  cold  dead  hand  severed  from  the 
bleeding  arm. 

Suppose  that,  by  some  strange  chance,  this  connection 


296  THE  HEAD. 


were  dissolved,  what  a  deadly  paralysis  would  seize  the 
soul !  There  are  few  sights  more  pitiful  than  to  see  a 
man  of  robust  strength,  of  eloquent  lips,  of  eagle  eye,  of 
majestic  port,  of  stalwart  step,  by  a  stroke  of  paralysis 
suddenly  turned  into  a  poor,  stammering,  tottering,  im- 
potent object,  whom  the  touch  of  a  child  can  prostrate  in 
the  dust.  Yet  he  is  only  a  feeble  image  of  what  we  should 
become  were  the  gracious  communications  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  suspended.  Deprived  of  the  strength  I  draw  from 
Christ,  T  could  not  stand  a  buffet  from  Satan's  hand.  How 
should  I  be  able  to  endure  hardness  as  a  good  soldier  of 
Jesus  Christ,  or  fight  the  good  fight  of  faith  ?  However 
strong  the  hand  of  faith  had  been,  it  would  now  shake  like 
an  aspen  leaf;  and,  now  but  the  wreck  of  other  days, 
gone  were  my  power  to  sing  the  praises  of  God,  gone  my 
power  to  walk,  or  run  in  the  way  of  his  commandments. 
And  this  impotency,  whether  it  spread  over  our  souls 
like  a  creeping  palsy,  or  came  with  the  suddenness  of  a 
stroke,  were  but  the  dismal  prelude  to  eternal  death. 

I  have  supposed,  for  illustration's  sake,  that  the 
connection  were  dissolved,  but,  blessed  be  God !  that 
cannot  be.  "  They  shall  never  perish,  neither  shall 
any  man  pluck  them  out  of  my  hand.  My  Father,  which 
gave  them  me,  is  greater  than  all,  and  no  man  is  able 
to  pluck  them  out  of  my  Father's  hand."  With  such 
an  assurance  from  his  lips,  how  may  we  say  to  Jesus, 
Thou  hast  set  my  feet  upon  a  rock?  Standing  on 
its  sunny  summit,  far  above  the  surging  waves  of  doubt 
and  fear,  what  hinders  us  to  exclaim  with  Paul,  I  am 
persuaded  that  neither  life,  nor  death,  nor  angels,  nor 


THE  HEAD.  297 


principalities,  nor  powers,  nor  things  present,  nor  things 
to  come,  nor  any  other  creature,  shall  be  able  to  separate 
me  from  the  love  of  God,  which  is  through  Jesus  ? 

2.  As  head  of  his  church,  Jesus  Christ  is  the  source 
of  our  spiritual  life.  We  must  not  confound  the  means 
of  life  with  its  first  cause.  The  chamber  in  Shunam, 
where  a  pious  woman  had  lodged  the  man  of  God, 
presents  us  with  a  fair  and  striking  picture  of  what  we 
may  do  in  communicating  the  blessing  of  spiritual  life 
to  a  soul  dead  in  sins.  Let  us  in  fancy  open  the  door, 
and,  with  feelings  of  awe  and  wonder,  enter  that  room 
where  Elisha,  having  left  the  mother  below,  has  shut 
himself  up  with  the  cold  unconscious  corpse.  The 
dead  boy  is  lying  in  the  prophet's  chamber,  and  on  the 
prophet's  bed  ;  as  if,  like  a  drowning  one  who  catches 
a  passing  straw,  the  poor  woman  had  thought,  when 
she  laid  him  there,  that  there  might  be  something  not 
only  sacred,  but  life-restoring,  that  clung  to  the  walls 
which  had  been  hallowed  by  the  good  man's  prayers. 
He  gazes  fixedly  and  fondly  on  the  pale  placid  counte- 
nance; and  having  waked  up  his  tenderest  afiections 
for  the  little  dead  creature  he  had  often  carried  in  his 
arms,  and  kissed,  and  blessed,  Elisha  turns  from  the 
lifeless  clay  to  the  living  God.  He  kneels  beside  the 
dead.  He  prays  for  the  dead.  And  in  prayers  a 
mother  may  hear,  as,  with  beating  heart,  she  sits  silent, 
and  listening,  and  hoping  below,  he  pours  out  his  very 
soul  to  God.  The  prayer  ceases.  It  has  been  heard. 
The  prophet  knows  it ;  and  now  rises  to  employ  other 
means,  nor  doubts  of  their  success.     As  one  who,  seek- 


THE  HEAD. 


ing  another's  conversion,  brings  the  truth  in  himself 
into  kindest,  closest  contact  with  that  other's  soul — soul 
to  soul,  and  heart  to  heart,  Elisha  brings  his  own  life  as 
close  to  the  dead  as  possible.  Love  revolting  at  nothing, 
he  takes  the  corpse  into  his  arms.  He  stretches  himself 
upon  the  body ;  he  puts  his  mouth  upon  his  mouth,  and 
his  eyes  upon  his  eyes,  and  his  hands  upon  his  hands. 
The  living  heart  of  the  prophet  beats  against  the  dead 
heart  of  the  child,  knocks  there  to  waken  it;  he  all 
the  time  pleading  with  God,  entreating  with  tears  that 
hang  on  the  lashes  of  those  closed  eyes  and  bedew  the 
pallid  face  of  death.  We  know  not  how  long  the  dead 
lay  in  the  embraces  of  the  hving ;  but  pains  and  prayer 
had  their  sure  reward.  A  step  is  on  the  floor.  The 
mother  catches  it.  She  starts.  The  door  opens. 
"  Gehazi,"  cries  the  prophet,  a  summons  rapidly  fol- 
lowed by  the  glad  command,  "  Call  the  Shunammite.'* 
Hope  sounds  in  that  voice ;  joy  leaps  in  her  heart. 
She  hastens  up,  she  rushes  in.  He  points  her  to  the 
smiling  boy,  saying,  Take  up  thy  son,  as  with  delirious 
joy  and  open  arms  she  bounds  across  the  floor  to  lock 
him  in  her  long  fond  embraces. 

Thus,  simply  as  a  medium  or  link  which  connects 
the  living  with  the  dead,  a  believer  may  be  the  means  of 
communicating  life.  But  the  life  which  Christ  gave  you 
was  his  own.  "  Ye  know  the  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  that,  though  he  was  rich,  yet  for  your  sakes  he 
became  poor,  that  ye  through  his  poverty  might  be  rich." 
What  Elisha  did  not,  and  could  not  do  in  that  chamber 
for  the  child,  our  Saviour  did  on  the  cross  for  us.     He 


THE  HEAD.  299 


died  that  we  might  live.  He  poured  out  his  soul  unto 
death.  To  fill  our  veins  with  blood,  he  emptied  his  own. 
He  stretched  himself  out  upon  the  cold  corpse  of  a  world 
to  communicate  life,  and,  while  communicating  it,  expired. 
He  breathed  life  into  the  dead,  but  it  was  his  own.  If 
any  vital  heavenly  fire  burns  in  you,  it  was  Christ  who 
kindled  it ;  for  the  spirit  life  came  not,  like  the  natural, 
through  father  and  mother,  flashing,  as  an  electric  spark, 
from  the  first  man  along  the  linked  chain  of  successive 
generations.  Not  of  blood,  nor  of  the  will  of  the  flesh, 
nor  of  the  will  of  man,  but  of  God,  that  life  came  when 
Christ  impressed  his  kiss  of  love  on  death's  icy  lips,  just 
as  that  of  Adam  came  from  his  Maker,  when,  stooping 
over  the  clay  model  of  a  man,  God  breathed  into  its 
nostrils  the  breath  of  life.  And  as,  by  his  death,  which 
was  a  satisfaction  for  sin,  Jesus  Christ  purchased  our 
life,  by  his  life  he  now  maintains  it ;  so  that,  as  the 
life  of  a  pregnant  mother  is  the  life  of  the  babe  within 
her,  his  life  is  ours.  Is  the  connection  between  these 
two  so  intimate,  that  she  might  address  her  unborn, 
saying.  Because  I  live,  thou  livest  also?  Well,  Jesus 
says  more ;  he  says.  Because  I  live,  ye  shall  live  also. 
That  mother  may  die.  Hope  has  strewed  her  withered 
blossoms  on  a  grave  where  the  rose  and  the  rose-bud 
lie  buried  together ;  and  death,  cofiining  the  babe  in  a 
dead  mother's  womb,  by  one  fell  stroke  has  inflicted  a 
double  blow  on  some  childless,  widowed  man.  But,  in 
their  life  one  with  Christ,  believers  can  never  die. 
Never :  for  he  dieth  no  more.  That  head  bows  on  a 
cross  no  more ;  that  eye  darkens  in  death  no  more ; 


300  THE  HEAD. 


that  brow,  crowned  with  glory,  bleeds  under  thorns  no 
more.      "I  am  he  that  liveth  and  was  dead." 

Thus,  restored  to  life  by  Christ,  and  through  your 
union  with  him  safe  from  the  second  death,  believers 
can  dare,  in  a  sense,  to  use  his  own  great  words,  saying, 
"  I  am  he  that  liveth,  and  was  dead,  and,  behold,  I 
am  alive  for  evermore."  So  long  as  Christ  lives,  you 
live  ;  so  long  as  Christ  shall  live,  you  shall  live.  Since 
your  life  is  hid  with  Christ  in  God,  why  then  should  you 
dread  the  grisly  king  ?  Fear  not  the  shaking  of  his  dart. 
You  are  deathless  men.  Hear  the  voice  of  your  Saviour. 
"  I  give  unto  them  eternal  life ;  and  they  shall  never 
perish."  "  He  that  believe th  in  me,  though  he  were 
dead,  yet  shall  he  live;  and  whosoever  liveth  and 
belie veth  in  me  shall  never  die."  Disease  may  rot  off 
a  limb  ;  an  empty  sleeve,  pinned  to  a  breast  hung  thick 
with  stars,  and  crosses,  and  medals,  may  tell  of  losses 
suffered  as  well  as  battles  fought  in  a  country's  cause ; 
and  accident  may  any  day  tear  a  member  from  our 
body,  and  separate  it  from  its  living  head.  But  no 
accident,  no  chance,  no,  nor  all  the  devils  of  hell,  shall 
separate  us  from  the  love  of  Christ.  I  cling  to  that 
belief.  Without  it,  where  were  the  peace  of  the  saints? 
where  the  promise  and  care  of  him  who  says,  I  will 
never  leave  you,  let  not  your  heart  be  troubled;  ye 
believe  in  God,  believe  also  in  me. 

II.    As    Head   of  his   church,   Jesus   Christ  rules  its 
members. 

It  is  not  pain  that  makes  the  insect  go  spinning 


THE  HEAD.  301 


round  and  round,  to  the  entertainment  of  the  thought- 
less, not  cruel,  boy  who  has  beheaded  it.  It  has  lost 
in  the  head  that  which  preserves  harmony  among  the 
members,  and  controls  their  movements,  and  prevents 
such  anarchy  in  the  body  corporeal  as  there  was  in  the 
body  politic,  when  there  was  no  king  in  Israel,  and 
every  man  did  that  which  was  right  in  his  own  eyes. 
Seated,  as  becomes  a  king,  in  the  highest  place,  the 
head  gives  law  to  all  beneath  it.  The  tongue  speaks  or 
is  silent,  the  arms  rise  or  fall,  the  feet  walk  or  rest,  the 
eye  opens  or  shuts,  as  this  sovereign  wills  ;  and,  trans- 
mitting its  orders  along  the  nerves  which,  ramified  through 
the  body,  reach  the  most  distant  members,  it  receives 
from  all  of  them  instant,  implicit  obedience.  It  rules 
with  more  despotic  authority  than  any  other  sovereign. 
Its  subjects  never  mutiny ;  they  hatch  no  plots  j  they 
form  no  conspiracies. 

Patterns  of  the  obedience  which  we  should  yield  to 
Jesus  Christ,  the  members  hesitate  not  to  obey  the  head, 
''even  to  their  own  loss  and  painful  suffering.  Take  the 
hand,  for  instance.  Archbishop  Cranmer  stands  chained 
to  Ihe  stake.  The  fagots  are  lighted.  With  forked 
tongues  the  flames  rise  through  the  smoke  that  opens,  as 
the  wind  blows  it  aside,  to  show  that  great  old  man  stand- 
ing up  firm  in  the  fiery  trial.  Like  a  true  penitent,  he 
resolves  that  the  hand  which  had  signed  his  base  recanta- 
tion shall  burn  first ;  and  how  bravely  it  abides  the  flame ! 
In  obedience  to  the  head,  the  hand  lays  itself  down  to 
suffer  amputation  ;  in  obedience  to  the  head,  it  flings 
away   the  napkin,  sign  for  the  drop  to  fall;   in  ube- 


302  THE  HEAD. 


dience  to  the  head,  as  was  foreseen  by  some  of  our 
fathers  when  they  attached  their  names  to  the  League 
and  Covenant,  it  firmly  signed  the  bond  that  sealed  their 
fate,  and  doomed  them  to  a  martyr's  grave.  Let  the 
head  forgive,  and  the  hand  at  once  opens  to  grasp  an 
enemy's,  in  pledge  of  quarrel  buried  and  estrangement 
gone.  Would  to  God  that  Jesus  Christ  had  such 
authority  over  us  I  Make  us,  0  Lord,  thy  willing 
subjects  in  the  day  of  thy  power  I  Ascend  the  throne 
of  our  hearts  !  Prince  of  Peace !  take  unto  thee  thy 
great  power,  and  reign  ! 

How  happy,  how  holy  should  we  be,  were  our  hearts, 
our  minds,  our  bodies,  as  obedient  to  the  laws  of  his  word 
and  to  the  influences  of  his  Spirit,  as  that  hand  and 
this  tongue  are  to  the  head  that  rules  them.  Brethren, 
what  else  but  this  is  needed,  not  only  to  preserve  the 
purity  and  peace  of  our  souls,  but  to  restore  purity  and 
peace  to  distracted  churches  ?  My  body  knows  and 
owns  no  authority  whatever  but  its  own  head.  Why 
should  Christ's  church  do  otherwise?  How  many  '" 
divisions  would  be  healed,  would  she  repudiate  all 
government  but  his  in  things  belonging  to  his  kingdom, 
would  she  take  his  word  as  her  only  rule,  and  read  it  with 
the  docile  faith  of  a  child,  would  she  call  none  master 
but  Jesus,  nor  admit  anything  to  bind  her  conscience 
but  the  law  and  the  testimonj'',  would  she  throw  down  all 
sectarian  walls  and  barriers,  and  make  nothing  necessary 
to  church  communion  but  what  is  necessary  to  being  a 
Christian. 

There  is  no  essential  diflference  between  the  Evan- 


THE  HEAD.  303 


gelical  denominations.  And  what  should  hinder  them 
from  being  as  ready  to  love  and  help  one  the  other 
as  my  foot  is  to  run  in  the  service  of  my  hand,  and 
as  my  hand  is  to  work  in  the  service  of  my  foot,  and 
as  my  eyes  and  ears,  standing  on  their  tower  of 
observation,  are  to  watch  for  the  good  of  the  body 
and  all  its  members  ?  Were  there  sympathy  like  that 
among  the  brethren,  how  soon  would  there  be  harmony 
in  Jerusalem  !  What  triumphs  would  crown  her  arms  ! 
what  prosperity  would  bless  her  palaces !  The  sin,  the 
shame,  the  scandal,  the  monstrous,  unnatural,  afflicting 
spectacle  of  Christian  churches,  up  in  arms  against  each 
other,  and  stunning  the  ears  of  a  wondering,  scoffing 
world  with  the  din  of  battle,  would  cease,  for  ever  cease. 
Let  the  fields  of  war  present  the  horrid  spectacle  of 
men  shearing  off  each  other's  limbs,  and  plunging  their 
swords  into  each  other's  breasts,  but  who  ever  heard  of 
a  case  so  monstrous,  as  a  man's  hands  and  feet  and 
other  members  declaring  war,  one  with  another  ?  Alas ! 
such  a  sight  the  church  of  Christ  has  often  presented. 
The  most  wretched  reasons  have  been  considered  good 
enough  for  separating  or  remaining  separate.  Paltry 
differences  have  given  rise  to  quarrels,  and  quarrels  have 
given  rise  to  blows,  and  blows  have  ended  in  running 
sores  and  bitter  hatreds,  and  a  bleeding,  weeping  church 
has  been  left,  when  asked  about  her  wounds,  to  reply, 
"  These  are  the  wounds  with  which  I  was  wounded  in 
the  house  of  my  friends." 

Oh,  that  all  our  unhappy,  unholy  contentions  would 
cease  !     How  long,  0  Lord,  how  long !     Come,  Holy 


304  THE  HEAD. 


Dove,  and  sweep  the  storms  away  with  thy  snow-white 
wing,  bringing  from  heaven  the  branch  of  an  olive 
plucked  from  the  trees  that  grow  by  the  river  of  life. 
Yet  vain  meanwhile  the  wish  !  Never  shall  the  ark 
rest,  nor  sweet  peace  brood,  like  a  halcyon  bird,  on  the 
troubled  waters,  till  Christ  receives  the  honour  which 
is  his  due ;  till  the  Head  that  is  in  heaven  rules  tlje 
body  that  is  on  earth  ;  till  the  names  of  fathers,  both 
ancient  and  modern,  are  discarded,  and  no  authority  but 
Christ's  is  acknowledged  by  a  church  which  he  has 
bought  with  his  precious  blood,  and  whose  members, 
loved  so  dearly  by  him,  ought  so  kindly  and  so  dearly 
to  love  one  another.     "  Even  so  come.  Lord  Jesus." 

III.  As  Head  of  his  church,  Jesus  Christ  sympathises 
with  its  members. 

According  to  Solomon,  "  all  the  rivers  run  into  the 
sea,"  and  were  you  to  dissect  the  body  you  would  find 
that  all  the  nerves  run  into  the  brain.  The  head,  is  the 
centre  of  the  nervous  system.  Beneath  that  palatial 
dome  the  soul  dwells  ;  and  by  the  nerves  which  run  out 
from  that  centre  she  corresponds  with  matter,  looking 
through  the  eyes,  feeling  by  the  hand,  hearing  by  the 
ears,  speaking  by  the  tongue,  and,  unless  when  she 
seizes  the  hours  of  sleep  to  rest  herself  or  to  roam  away 
in  dreams,  thus  holding  communion  with  the  outer  world. 
The  nerves  form  a  perfect  system  of  living  telegraphs. 
By  means  of  them  the  soul  knows  in  an  instant  what 
passes  in  all  parts  of  her  realm,  and  takes  immediate 
measures  for  the  well-being  of  every  member  of  the  body. 


THE  HEAD.  305 


Let  the  foot  but  touch  a  thorn,  it  is  instantly  with- 
drawn. And  how  ?  Pain,  thrilling  along  the  nerves, 
flashes  the  danger  upward  to  the  head,  which,  by  another 
set  of  nerves,  flashes  back  an  immediate  order,  so  that 
before  the  thorn  is  buried  in  the  flesh,  the .  foot  is  with- 
drawn. If  but  the  wing  of  a  gnat  brush,  if  but  a  mote 
of  dust  touch  the  guardian  fringes,  the  eyelid  drops,  like 
the  portcullis  at  yonder  castle  gate,  to  keep  out  the 
enemy.  Thus  the  head  sympathises  with  all  the  body, 
and,  sympathising,  succours  it. 

Such  is  the  sympathy  between  Christ  and  his  people. 
Let  that  comfort,  strengthen,  cheer  you.  He  is  in 
constant,  ay,  in  closest  communication  with  every  one 
of  his  members ;  and  by  means  of  lines  that  stretched 
along  the  starry  sky  pass  from  earth  to  heaven,  the 
meanest  cottage  where  a  believer  dwells  is  joined  to 
the  throne  of  God.  No  accident  stops  that  telegraph. 
The  lines  of  providence  radiate  out,  and  the  lines  of 
prayer  radiate  in.  Touched  with  a  fellow-feeling  for 
your  infirmities,  Christ  suffers  all  your  wrongs,  is  sen- 
sible of  your  every  want,  and  hears  every  prayer  you  utter. 
You  can  never  apply  to  him  too  often ;  you  cannot  ask 
of  him  too  much.  To  his  ear  the  needy's  prayers  are 
sweeter  music  than  the  voice  of  angels,  or  the  best 
strung  harp  in  heaven. 

In  a  distant  land,  how  bitterly  the  poor  invalid 
thinks  of  home !  Oh  !  how  he  wishes  he  could  anni- 
hilate the  seas  that  roll  between  him  and  his  mother, 
and  remove  his  sick-bed,  far  from  her  kind  attentions.    A 

stranger  in   a  strange   land,  the  bitter  tears   rise  the 

o  2 


THE  HEAD. 


faster  in  his  eye  as  busy  fancy  flies  away,  and  the 
home  of  his  boyhood  stands  before  him,  and  the  cool 
breeze  wafting  odours  from  the  flowers  kisses  his  cheek, 
and  he  passes  under  the  shadow  of  the  trees  where  he 
played  a  happy  child,  and,  entering  the  well-known  door, 
he  hears  his  sister's  song,  and  a  father's  merry  laugh, 
and  a  mother's  sweet  soft  loving  voice,  and  sees  those 
that  would  hasten  to  his  help,  and  hang  over  his  bed, 
and  smooth  his  restless  pillow,  and  wipe  the  death-sweat 
from  his  brow,  gathered,  a  bright  and  happy  circle, 
by  a  fireside  he  shall  never  more  see. 

It  is  sweet  to  feel  that  any  one  cares  for  us; 
sweetest  in  suffering's  hour  to  have  those  near  who 
love  us,  to  see  the  glistening  tear,  and  hear  the  kind 
tones  of  unwearying  affection.  But  human  sympathy, 
take  it  at  the  best,  is  liable  to  a  thousand  interrup- 
tions ;  and  then  we  have  sometimes  sorrows  that  we 
hide  from  others,  with  which  a  bosom  friend  is  not 
allowed  to  intermeddle.  But,  blessed  Jesus !  there  is 
no  sorrow  thy  people  hide  from  thee,  nor  any  pang  thy 
members  feel  but  it  is  felt  by  thee.  Thanks  be  to  God 
that,  selecting  from  our  frame  its  most  sensitive  and 
tender  part,  he  has  set  this  forth  in  an  image  which  all 
can  appreciate  and  understand.  "  He  that  toucheth 
you  toucheth  the  apple  of  his  eye." 

If,  to  words  that  so  beautifully  and  fully  set  forth 
the  tender  sympathy  which  Christ,  as  their  Head, 
cherishes  for  his  beloved  people,  I  could  venture  to  add 
any  that  ever  fell  from  mortal  lips,  I  would  select  those 
of  Margaret  Wilson,  Scotland's  maiden  martyr.     Some 


THE  HEAD.  307 


two  hundred  years  ago,  there  was  a  dark  period  of 
sujBfering  in  this  land,  when  deeds  of  bloody  cruelty 
were  committed  on  God's  people,  not  outdone  by  In- 
dian butcheries.  One  day  the  tide  is  flowing  in  the 
Solway  Firth,  rushing,  like  a  race-horse,  with  snowy 
mane  to  the  shore.  It  is  occupied  by  groups  of 
weeping  spectators.  They  keep  their  eyes  fixed  on  two 
objects  out  upon  the  wet  sands.  There,  two  women, 
each  tied  fast  by  their  arms  and  limbs  to  a  stake, 
stand  within  the  sea-mark  ;  and  many  an  earnest  prayer 
is  going  up  to  heaven  that  Chi'ist,  who  bends  from  his 
throne  to  the  sight,  would  help  them  now  in  their 
dreadful  hour  of  need.  The  elder  of  the  two  is  staked 
farthest  out.  Margaret,  the  young  martyr,  stands  bound, 
a  fair  sacrifice,  near  by  the  shore.  Well,  on  the  big 
billows  come,  hissing  to  their  naked  feet ;  on  and  further 
on  they  come,  death  riding  on  the  top  of  the  waves, 
and  eyed  by  these  tender  women  with  unflinching 
courage.  The  waters  rise  and  rise,  till,  amid  a  scream 
and  cry  of  horror  from  the  shore,  the  lessening  form  of 
her  that  had  death  first  to  face,  is  lost  in  the  foam  of 
the  surging  wave.  It  recedes,  but  only  to  return  ;  and 
now,  the  sufierer  gasping  for  breath,  her  death  struggle 
is  begun ;  and  now,  for  Margaret's  trial  and  her  noble 
answer.  "  What  see  you  yonder  ?"  said  their  murderers, 
as,  while  the  water  rose  cold  on  her  own  limbs,  they 
pointed  her  attention  to  her  fellow-confessor  in  the 
sufi'ocating  agonies  of  a  protracted  death.  Response 
full  of  the  boldest  faith,  and  brightest  hope,  and  all  the 
divine  unfathomed  consolation  of  my  text  to  you,  she 


308  THE  HEAD. 


firmly  answered,  "  I  see  Christ  suffering  in  one  of  his 
own  members."  Brave  and  glorious  words  !  borrowed 
in  that  hour  from  the  precious  language  of  my  text,  and 
leading  us  to  the  apostle's  most  comforting  and  sublime 
conclusion,  "  We  have  not  an  high  priest  which  cannot 
be  touched  with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities ;  but  was 
in  all  points  tempted  like  as  we  are,  yet  without  sin. 
Let  us  therefore  come  boldly  to  the  throne  of  grace, 
that  we  may  obtain  mercy,  and  find  grace  to  help  in 
time  of  need." 


THE  BEGINNING. 

Who  is  the  beginning. — Colossians  i.  18. 

n^HERE  are  certain  points  where  the  different  king- 
doms of  Nature  meet,  and  are,  indeed,  interwoven 
into  each  other.  Each  in  turn  passes  the  boundary 
line  into  the  other's  domain,  as  the  land  and  the  sea 
do;  here,  in  the  headland  that  stands  so  boldly  out 
among  the  boiling  waves,  there,  in  the  beautiful  bay 
that  lies  asleep,  locked  in  the  arms  of  the  land. 

In  our  conservatories,  for  instance,  you  may  see 
flowers  which  present  a  strong,  very  curious,  and  sur- 
prising resemblance  to  some  of  the  insect  tribes.  Leaves 
stand  up  above  the  body  of  the  flower,  in  form,  position, 
and  brilliant  colours,  so  like  painted  wings,  that  the 
flowers  themselves  appear  to  be  gorgeous  butterflies, 
suspended  in  the  air,  and  hovering  over  the  plant,  just 
as  you  have  often  seen  the  insect  on  fluttering  wing 
ere  it  alighted  to  drink  the  nectar  from  gold,  or  silver, 
or  ruby  cup.  The  animal  world,  too,  is  furnished  with 
things  as  strange ;  presenting,  if  I  may  say  so,  a 
corresponding  play  and  display  of  divine  power.  If 
there  are  flowers  like  insects,  there  are  insects  so  like 
leaves,  fresh  and   green,  or  sere   and  yellow,  that  the 


310  THE  BEGINNING. 


deception  is  complete ;  nor  is  the  mistake  discovered, 
till,  on  putting  out  your  hand  to  pluck  the  leaf,  you 
stand  amazed  to  see  it  in  an  instant,  as  by  magic, 
change  into  a  living  creature,  and,  taking  wing,  fly 
off.  These  objects  are  more  than  curious.  A  thought- 
ful eye  sees  there  not  only  the  skill  and  power,  but 
the  goodness  of  him,  who,  in  that  strange  livery,  so 
masks  a  helpless  creature,  that  its  enemies  are  deceived, 
and  it  is  protected  from  their  attacks.  When  we  see 
such  exquisite  devices  and  almighty  power  put  forth  to 
shield  the  meanest  insect,  what  force  does  it  give  to 
our  Lord's  exhortation.  Fear  ye  not,  therefore,  ye  are 
of  more  value  than  many  sparrows. 

But  the  kingdoms  of  nature  touch  at  points  still 
more  real  and  palpable.  They  are  so  shaded  off  into 
each  other,  that  some  of  the  animals  which  occupy  their 
borders  present  a  combination  of  properties  puzzling 
even  to  philosophers,  and  an  inexplicable  wonder  to  the 
ignorant  multitude.  The  power  of  flying  belongs  to 
birds,  and  the  power  of  walking  to  quadrupeds  ;  yet 
there  are  birds  that  never  fly,  and  four-footed  animals 
that  never  walk.  It  is  the  characteristic  of  land 
animals  to  breathe  by  lungs,  and  of  fishes  to  breathe  by 
gills ;  yet  there  are  inhabitants  of  the  sea  which  breathe 
like  creatures  of  the  shore,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  in 
dry  and  dusty  walls,  and  beneath  the  stones  of  the 
moorland,  there  are  creatures  whose  breathing  organs 
are  the  same  as  those  of  fishes.  Sensibility  character- 
ises animals,  insensibility  plants ;  but  there  are  plants 
with    leaves    bo    sensitive   that  they  shrink    from  the 


THE  BEGINNING.  311 


slightest  touch — shutting,  like  an  eyelid,  if  they  be 
rudely  blown  upon ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  there  are 
animals  which  you  may  turn  inside  out,  like  the  finger 
of  a  glove,  and  the  rudeness  seems  to  give  them  no 
pain,  and  certainly  neither  destroys  their  life,  nor  de- 
ranges their  functions.  Deprived  of  light,  plants  pale 
and  sicken,  droop  and  die  ;  and  so  dependent  is  animal 
life  on  a  due  supply  of  light,  that  Dr.  Kane  imputes 
the  madness  that  seized  his  dogs  to  the  darkness  of  that 
polar  night  which  lasted  for  a  hundred  and  forty  days. 
Yet,  so  independent  are  some  creatures  of  the  blessed 
light,  that  in  those  vast  caverns  of  the  New  World 
which  the  boldest  travellers  have  not  ventured  fully  to 
explore,  amid  a  gloom  deep  as  the  grave,  and  on  the 
banks  of  a  river  which,  rushing  through  them,  fills  the 
ear  with  the  roar  of  its  cataract,  and  goes,  like  a  being 
whose  fate  is  lost  in  mystery,  no  man  knows  where, 
strange  eyeless  animals  roam,  and  have  their  loves,  and, 
not  overlooked  by  God  down  there,  enjoy  a  life  that, 
faint  emblem  of  the  condition  of  the  lost,  is  passed  in 
utter  and  perpetual  darkness.  How  marvellous  are  thy 
works.  Lord  God  Almighty ! 

In  consequence  of  certain  plants  and  animals  being 
endowed  with  properties  that  characterise  the  classes 
next  in  order  to  themselves,  there  is  a  beautiful  grada- 
tion in  nature.  There  is  no  great  wide  gap,  no 
abrupt  and  sudden  change.  The  whole  fabric  of  crea- 
tion appears  rising  upwards,  like  a  lofty  pyramid,  with 
its  difierent  courses  dovetailed  the  one  into  the  other ; 
and  so   constructed,  that  by  a  series  of  steps  you  rise 


3I2r  THE  BEGINNING. 


from  the  lowest  forms  of  existence  up  to  man,  standing 
upon  its  apex,  with  his  feet  resting  on  earth,  and  his 
head,  so  to  speak,  touching  the  stars.  And  what 
combinations  are  so  strange  as  those  which  meet  in 
man  ?  In  some  respects  how  noble,  in  others  how 
mean  he  is ;  in  his  corporeal  elements  an  animal,  in  his 
spiritual  essence  an  angel ;  often  the  slave  of  passions 
that  grovel  in  the  dust,  yet  endowed  with  powers  that 
hold  converse  with  God  ;  before  the  fall  half  an  angel 
and  half  an  animal,  but  now,  exiled  from  Eden,  his 
life  a  mystery,  and  himself,  as  an  old  writer  says,  half 
^  devil  and  half  a  beast — a  strange  being  at  the  best, 
symbolised,  after  a  sort,  by  those  cherubim  which,  to 
the  countenance  of  a  man  and  the  wings  of  an  angel, 
joined  the  form  of  a  beast. 

Great  is  the  mystery  of  godliness !  The  most 
precious  mysteries  is  the  greatest  of  all  mysteries. 
Neither  in  man,  nor  in  angel,  nor  in  any  other  crea- 
ture, is  there  such  a  combination  of  what  appear  irre- 
concileable  properties,  such  harmonizing  of  what  seems 
discordant,  such  blending  and  bringing  together  of  the 
peculiar  characteristics  of  distinct  and  different  orders, 
as  in  "  the  mystery  of  godhness."  In  his  person,  and 
character,  and  work,  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  presents 
what  is  explicable,  and,  to  my  mind,  credible,  on  no 
theory  but  one,  that  he  was  God  manifest  in  the  flesh, 
Emmanuel,  God  with  us.  Indeed,  I  should  find  it, 
I  think,  an  easier  thing  to  deny  the  divinity  of  the 
Bible,  than,  having  admitted  that,  to  reject  the  divinity 


THE  BEGINNING.  313 


of  our  Lord.     To  illustrate  this  extraordinary  conjunc- 
tion of  apparently  conflicting  elements  found  in  him, 

1.  Look  at  our  Lord  by  the  grave  of  Lazarus. 
How  truly  man,  partaker  of  our  common  nature ! 
The  sight  of  the  tomb  wakens  all  his  grief;  the  suffer- 
ings of  these  two  sisters,  clinging  to  each  other,  touch 
his  loving  heart;  and  there  he  stands,  for  ever  sanc- 
tioning sorrow,  and  even  exalting  it  into  a  manly,  most 
noble  thing.  His  eyes  swim  in  tears,  groans  rend  his 
bosom ;  he  is  so  deeply,  so  uncontrollably,  so  visibly 
affected,  that  the  spectators  say.  See  how  he  loved  him ! 
Jesus  wept.  So  was  it  some  moments  ago.  But  now, 
what  a  change !  The  crowd  retreat,  surprise,  wonder, 
terror  seated  on  every  face ;  the  boldest  recoiling  from 
that  awful  form  which  comes  shuffling  out  of  the  grave. 
This  man  of  tears,  so  gentle,  so  tender,  so  easily  moved 
that  he  often  wept,  endued  with  a  sensibility  so  delicate 
that  the  strings  of  his  heart  vibrated  to  the  slightest 
touch,  has,  by  a  word,  rent  the  tomb.  Struck  with 
terror,  the  witch  of  Endor  shrieked  when  she  saw  the 
form  of  Samuel  emerging  from  the  ground ;  what  a 
contrast  this  scene  to  that !  Not  in  the  least  surprised 
at  the  event,  as  if,  in  raising  the  buried  dead,  he  had 
done  nothing  more  remarkable  than  light  a  lamp  or 
rekindle  the  embers  of  an  extinguished  fire,  calm  and 
tranquil,  Jesus  points  to  Lazarus,  saying.  Loose  him, 
and  let  him  go. 

2.  Look  at  Jesus  by  Jacob's  well.  There  a  woman 
who  has  come  to  draw  water  about  mid-day,  finds  a 
traveller  seated.     She   looks   at   him.      He   is   brown 


314  THE  BEGINNING. 


with  the  dust  of  a  jouniey ;  he  looks  pale,  and  worn, 
and  weary ;  the  hot  sun  beats  upon  his  head.  He 
accosts  her,  saying.  Give  me  to  drink!  And  in 
granting  it — for  woman  seldom  refuses  kindness  to 
the  needy — she  fancies,  no  doubt,  that  this  is  some 
poor  Jew,  whose  haughty  pride  bends  to  necessity  in 
asking  the  meanest  favour  from  a  Samaritan.  So 
he  seemed,  when,  gratefully  acknowledging  her  kind- 
ness, he  bent  his  head,  and  drank  deep  draughts  of  the 
cool  refreshing  water.  But,  when  he  has  raised  his 
eyes  to  look,  not  into  her  face,  but  into  her  heart, 
and  to  read  off,  as  from  a  book,  its  most  secret 
thoughts,  and,  although  they  had  never  met  before,  to 
tell  her  all,  to  use  her  own  words,  that  she  had  ever  done, 
with  what  wonder  does  she  regard  him  ?  She  is  amazed 
and  awed.  Well  she  might.  The  thirsty  way-worn 
man  has  suddenly  changed  into  the  omniscient  God. 

Thus,  the  incommunicable  attributes  of  Divinity, 
and  the  common  properties  of  humanity  sj:and  out 
equally  clear  in  our  Lord's  life  and  person.  And  just 
such  a  conjunction  of  things  apparently  irreconcileable 
presents  itself  to  our  attention  in  the  description  given 
of  Jesus  Christ  in  this  verse.  In  this  clause,  he  is 
described  by  a  term  sacred  to  God ;  we  pass  on  to 
the  next,  and  step  at  once  from  the  throne  of  the 
heavens  down  into  a  grave.  In  these  words,  "the 
beginning,"  we  behold  him  presiding  at  the  creation 
of  the  universe ;  by  those  which  follow,  "  the  first-born 
from  the  dead,"  we  are  carried  in  fancy  to  a  lonely 
garden,  where,  all  quiet  within,  Roman  sentinels  keep 


THE  BEGINNING.  -     315 

"watch  by  a  tomb,  or  where,  as  they  fly  in  pale  terror 
from  the  scene,  we  see  him  who  had  filled  the  eternal 
throne,  and  been  clothed  with  light  as  with  a  gar- 
ment, putting  oflf  a  shroud,  and  leaving  a  tomb.  What 
key  is  there  to  this  mystery,  what  possible  way  of 
harmonising  these  things,  but  this,  that  Christ,  while 
man,  was  more  than  man,  one  who  has  brought  together 
properties  so  wide  apart  as  dust  and  divinity,  time  and 
eternity,  eternal  Godhead  and  mortal  manhood  ?  What 
comfort  to  us,  as  well  as  glory  to  him,  in  this  com- 
bination !  Should  it  not  dissipate  every  care  and  fear, 
to  think  that  our  Saviour,  friend,  and  lover,  has  the 
heart  of  a  brother  and  the  hand  of  God  ? 

Let  us  now  consider  that  clause  of  this  verse  in 
which  our  Lord  is  called  **  the  beginning.'* 

L  This  term  expresses  his  divine  nature. 

I  have  read  a  story  of  a  blind  man,  who,  determined 
to  rise  above  his  misfortune,  and  to  pursue  knowledge 
under  the  greatest  difficulties,  set  himself  to  study 
the  nature  of  light  and  colours.  This  much  he  had 
learned,  that,  while  these  differ  in  intensity,  it  is  the 
red-coloured  ray  that  glares  strongest  on  the  eye.  He 
flattered  himself  that  he  had  at  length  mastered  a 
subject  which  must  remain  for  ever  more  or  less  of  a 
mystery  to  one,  as  he  was,  born  blind ;  and  so,  when 
asked  what  he  thought  red  was  like,  he  replied — evident 
satisfaction  at  his  acquirements  hghting  up  his  sightless- 
face — that  he  fancied  it  like  the  sound  of  a  trumpet. 


316  THE  BEGINNING. 


1'hough  we  may  smile  at  an  answer  so  wide  of  the 
mark,  his  difficulty  in  describing  colours  is  more  or  less 
ours  in  describing  God.  It  were  easier  for  these  fingers 
to  close  upon  the  world,  for  this  hand  to  hold  the  great 
globe  within  its  grasp,  than  for  any  finite  mind  to  com- 
prehend the  infinite  fulness  of  God.  "  Tt  is  high,  I 
cannot  attain  unto  it,"  "  He  stretcheth  out  the  north 
over  the  empty  place,  and  hangeth  the  earth  upon 
nothing.  By  his  Spirit  he  hath  garnished  the  heavens, 
his  hand  hath  formed  the  crooked  serpent.  Lo,  these 
are  part  of  his  ways ;  but  how  little  a  portion  is  heard 
of  him  ?  but  the  thunder  of  his  power  who  can  under- 
stand?" 

Just  as  that  blind  man  borrowed  terms  from  sounds 
to  express  the  objects  of  sight,  and  therefore  did  it 
very  imperfectly,  even  so,  familiar  only  with  what  is 
visible,  palpable,  finite,  we  have  to  borrow  terms  from 
these  things  to  describe  the  invisible,  the  God  who  is 
encased  in  no  body,  and  confined  within  no  bounds. 
And  as  1  have  seen  a  father,  to  make  a  thing  plain  to 
his  little  child,  take  the  boy  on  his  knee,  and,  forgetting 
his  own  learning,  dropping  all  correct  and  philosophical 
language,  speak  to  the  child  after  the  manner  of  a 
child,  so  our  heavenly  Father  condescends  to  speak  of 
himself  to  us.  Did  he  make  the  heavens  and  the  earth  ? 
They  are  the  work  of  his  hands.  Does  he  rule  the 
storm?  He  holds  the  winds  in  his  fist.  Are  those 
tremendous  powers  of  nature,  the  earthquake  and  the 
volcano,  obedient  to  his  will  ?  Like  conscious  guilt  in 
presence  of  her  judge,  the  earth  trembles  at  his  look, 


THE  BEGINNING.  317 


and  at  his  touch  the  mountains  smoke.  Does  he  con- 
stantly watch  over  his  people?  As  a  kind  mother's 
eye,  whatever  be  her  task,  follows  the  movements  of  her 
infant,  so  that  if  it  fall  she  may  raise  it,  or  if  it  wander 
too  near  the  fire,  the  cliff,  or  the  brink  of  a  stream,  she 
may  run  to  pluck  it  out  of  danger,  God's  eyes  run  to 
and  fro  throughout  the  whole  earth,  to  show  himself 
strong  to  them  whose  hearts  are  perfect  towards  him. 
Does  it  thunder  ?  It  is  the  voice  of  the  Lord ;  the 
lightning  cloud  that  comes  driving  up  the  sky  is  his 
chariot,  and  when  flash  blazes  upon  flash,  his  arrows  go 
abroad.  His  presence  is  now  an  eye,  now  a  hand, 
now  an  arm,  and  now  a  shield.  His  love  is  a  kiss, 
his  anger  is  a  frown.  Are  his  mercies  withdrawn? 
He  repents.  Are  they  restored  ?  He  returns.  Does 
he  interpose  in  any  remarkable  way  ?  He  plucks  his 
hand  from  his  bosom,  and,  like  one  who  goes  vigor- 
ously to  work,  the  blacksmith  who  wields  the  hammer, 
or  the  woodman  who  plies  the  axe,  he  makes  bare  his 
arm.  And  when  inspiration,  attempting  one  of  her 
loftiest  flights,  seeks  to  express  the  greatness  of  his 
majesty,  she  turns  the  heavens  into  a  sapphire  throne, 
spangled  all  with  stars,  and  taking  up  this  great  globe, 
rolls  it  forward  for  God  to  set  his  feet  on.  "  Thus 
saith  the  Lord,  the  heaven  is  my  throne,  and  the  earth 
is  my  footstool."  Thus,  by  terms  borrowed  from  our 
bodies,  and  properties,  and  circumstances,  God  describes 
himself,  and  among  other  instances  of  that  kind,  there 
is  one  where  he  employs  the  very  term  here  applied  to 
Jesus   in  my  text.      For  the   purpose  of  teaching  us 


318  THE  BEGINNING. 


that  he  is  before  all,  that  he  is  the  cause  and  the  end 
of  all,  with  such  condescension  as  a  father  shows  to  his 
little  children,  he  takes  the  Greek  alphabet,  and  selecting 
the  first  and  the  last  letters,  as  those  within  which  all 
else  are  included,  he  says,  "  1  am  Alpha  and  Omega, 
the  beginning  and  the  ending,  saith  the  Lord,  which  is, 
and  which  was,  and  which  is  to  come,  the  Almighty." 

He  must  be  God  who  is  almighty.  He  must  be 
God  who  is,  and  was,  and  is  to  come ;  and  since  "  the 
beginning"  is  another  title  applied  in  that  passage  to 
the  same  august,  and  infinite,  and  adorable  Being,  by 
applying  it  to  our  Lord,  Paul  pronounces  him  divine, 
and  around  the  head  which  was  once  pillowed  on  a 
woman's  bosom,  and  once  bowed  in  death  upon  a  cross, 
he  throws  a  halo  of  uncreated  glory.  A  man  worshipped 
in  heaven  ;  a  babe  adored  on  earth ;  the  infant's  advent 
sung  by  angels ;  sable  night  throwing  ofi"  her  gloom, 
and  breaking  into  splendour  above  his  manger-cradle ; 
one  whom  many  well  remembered,  as  if  it  were  but 
yesterday,  carried  in  Mary's  arms  or  playing  with  the 
boys  of  Nazareth,  now  claiming  to  be  older  than  Abra- 
ham; his  step  on  the  water  lighter  than  a  shadow's, 
his  voice  on  the  waters  mighty  as  God's ;  the  prompt 
obedience  of  unruly  elements ;  the  sullen  submission 
of  reluctant  devils,  as  they  retired  back,  and  farther 
back  before  that  single  man,  like  a  broken  band  re- 
treating in  the  face  of  an  overwhelming  force;  the 
hand  that  was  nailed  to  the  cross  freely  dispensing 
crowns  of  glory,  and  opening  the  gates  of  heaven  to  a 
dying  thief;  the  earth  trembling  with  horror,  and  the 


TEE  BEGINNING.  319 


snn  turned  mourner  because  they  were  murdering  their 
Lord ;  the  adoring  admiration  of  the  great  apostle, 
who,  contemplating  an  infant  cradled  in  a  manger,  a 
man  hanging  on  a  bloody  tree,  a  tomb  and  its  lonely 
tenant,  found  heaven  too  low,  and  hell  too  shallow,  and 
space  too  short,  to  set  forth  the  greatness  of  the  love 
that  gave  the  Saviour  to  die  for  us  ;  these  marvels, 
otherwise  utterly  inexplicable,  have  their  key  in  "  the 
mystery  of  godliness  ;"  Jesus  Christ  was  "  God  manifest 
in  the  flesh."  What  a  precious  truth !  The  blood  of 
Calvary  being,  as  Paul  calls  it,  the  blood  of  God,  may 
well  have  virtue  in  it  to  cleanse  from  all  sin,  so  that 
though  our  sins  be  as  scarlet,  they  shall  be  white  as 
snow,  though  they  be  red  Hke  crimson,  they  shall  be 
as  wool. 

II.  This  term,  "  the  beginning,"  expresses  Christ's  rela- 
tion to  his  church  and  people. 

The  beginning  of  a  tree  is  the  seed  it  springs  from. 
The  giant  oak  had  its  origin  in  the  acorn.  From  that 
dry,  hard  shell,  sprung  the  noble  growth  that  laughed 
at  the  storm,  in  the  course  of  time  covered  broad  acres 
with  its  ample  shade,  and  built  the  ship  that,  with  wings 
spread  to  the  wind,  flies  under  a  Bethel  flag,  to  bear  the 
gospel  to  heathen  lands,  or,  opening  her  ports,  rushes  on 
the  bloody  slave-ship,  and  fights  the  battle  of  humanity 
on  the  rolling  deep.  -Now,  as  a  seed,  Jesus  Christ  was 
one  apparently  of  little  promise.  According  to  the 
prophet,  he  was,  in  the  eyes  of  men,  a  root  out  of  a 


320  THE  BEGINNING. 


dry  ground.  He  was  all  his  lifetime  despised  and  re- 
jected ;  yet  out  of  him  has  grown  that  church  which 
shall  bear  the  blessings  of  salvation  to  the  ends  of  the 
earth,  and  pursue  her  bloodless,  victorious  course,  till 
continents  and  islands  have  knelt  at  his  feet.  All  the 
kingdoms  of  this  world  shall  become  the  kingdoms  of 
our  Christ. 

A  house,  again,  begins  at  the  foundation.  The 
first  stone  laid  is  the  foundation  stone.  That  may  be 
sunk  in  a  deep  dark  hole  ;  yet  though  it  lies  there,  unseen 
and  forgotten  by  the  thoughtless,  it  is  the  stabiHty  and 
support  of  all  the  superincumbent  structure.  And  when 
the  nails  were  drawn,  and  the  mangled  body  of  our  Lord 
was  lowered  from  the  cross,  and  received  into  women's 
arms,  and  borne  without  any  funeral  pomp  by  a  few 
sincere  mourners  to  the  lonesome  tomb,  and,  amid  sobs, 
and  groans,  and  tears,  and  bitter  griefs,  laid  in  that 
dark  sepulchre,  then  did  God  in  heaven  say,  Behold, 
I  lay  in  Zion  for  a  foundation  a  stone,  a  tried  stone,  a 
precious  corner-stone,  a  sure  foundation.  Yes,  it  was 
a  tried  stone.  He  had  been  tried  by  men  and  devils, 
and  by  his  Father  too  ;  hunger,  and  thirst,  and  suffering, 
and  death,  had  tried  him.  Since  then  the  foundation 
has  often  been  tried,  in  great  temptations,  and  sore 
afflictions,  and  fierce  assaults  of  the  Evil  One ;  winds 
have  blown,  and  rains  have  fallen,  and  rivers  have 
swelled,  and  heavy  floods  have  rolled,  but  the  man  who 
lias  believed  in  Christ,  and  the  hopes  that  have  rested 
on  his  finished  work,  have  stood  firm  and  unmoved. 
Saints  triumphing  over  temptation,  martyrs  singing  in 


THE  BEGINNING.  321 


prison,  believers  dying  in  peace,  devils  baffled,  hell 
defeated,  have  made  good  Christ's  words.  Upon  this 
rock  I  will  build  my  church  ;  and  the  gates  of  hell  shall 
not  prevail  against  it. 

The  author  of  our  faith,  the  founder  of  his  church, 
Christ  began  it  ere  the  world  began,  or  sun  or  stars 
shone  in  heaven.  He  provided  for  the  fall  before  the 
event  happened.  He  had  the  life-boat  on  the  beach 
before  the  bark  was  stranded,  or  launched,  or  even 
built.  Not  eighteen  hundred  years  ago,  when  the 
cross  rose  with  its  bleeding  victim  high  above  the  heads 
of  a  crowd  on  Calvary,  not  the  hour  of  the  Fall,  when 
God  descended  into  the  garden  to  comfort  our  parents, 
and  crush,  if  not  then  the  head,  the  hopes  of  the  serpent, 
but  eternal  ages  before  these  events  saw  the  beginning 
of  the  church  of  Christ.  He  began  it  in  the  councils 
of  eternity,  when,  standing  up  before  his  Father  to  say, 
Lo,  I  come  (in  the  volume  of  the  book  it  is  written 
of  me)  to  do  thy  will,  0  God,  he  offered  himself  a 
substitute  and  a  sacrifice  for  men.  He  was  "  the  Lamb 
slain  from  the  foundation  of  the  world." 

The  author  then,  and,  when  he  died  on  Calvary, 
the  finisher  of  our  faith, 

ni.  Jesus  is  *'the  beginning"   of  salvation  in  every 
individual  believer. 

He  is  ''  all  our  salvation."  We  owe  everything  to 
Christ.     Whatever  was  the  instrument  employed  in  our 


322  THE  BEGINNING. 


conversion,  whether  a  silent  book,  or  a  solemn  provi- 
dence, or  a  living  preacher,  it  was  his  grace  that  began 
what  had  a  beginning,  but,  thanks  be  to  God,  never 
shall  have  an  end ;  the  health  that  never  sickens,  the 
life  that  never  dies,  the  glory  that  never  fades.  By 
his  Spirit  convincing  us  of  sin,  and  revealing  himself 
to  us  as  a  willing  and  all-sufficient  Saviour,  he  began  it 
at  conversion ;  he  carries  it  on  through  sanctification ; 
and  he  crowns  it  in  glory.  The  preacher  was  a  man  but 
drawing  a  bow  at  a  venture.  Jesus !  it  was  thine  eye 
that  aimed  the  shaft,  and  thy  strength  which  bent  the 
bow  that  day  the  arrow  stuck  quivering  in  our  heart. 
When  our  sins  were  carrying  us  out  to  our  burial, 
it  was  thou  that  didst  stop  the  bier,  and  with  thy  touch 
impartedst  life.  Brought  by  the  prayers  of  others  to 
the  grave,  where  we  lay  corrupting  in  our  sins,  it  was 
thy  voice  that  pierced  the  ear  of  death,  and  brought  us 
alive  from  the  dead.  Having  none  in  heaven  or  on 
earth  but  thee,  thou  hast  been  all  in  all  to  us.  In  thy 
birth  our  hopes  were  born,  in  thy  death  our  fears 
expired,  in  thy  sepulchre  our  guilt  was  buried,  the 
sufiferings  of  thy  cross  were  natal  pangs,  and  to  us  and 
millions  more  thy  grave  has  been  the  pregnant  womb 
of  life. 

The  "beginning,"  and  therefore  "  the  author," 
Jesus  is  the  finisher  of  our  faith.  He  does  no  half 
work,  half  saving  or  half  sanctifying  a  man.  Trust 
him,  that  where  he  has  begun  a  good  work,  he  will 
carry  it  on  to  the  end.  What  would  become  of  us  if 
he  did  not?     Blessed  Lord!  but  that  thy  hand  sus- 


THE  BEGINNING.  323 


tained  me,  how  often  had  hell  received  me  ?  but  that 
thy  faithfulness  did  not  fail  with  my  faith,  but  that  thy 
goodness  did  not  ebb  with  my  gratitude,  but  that  thy 
love  of  me  did  not  wane  with  my  love  of  thee,  how 
often  had  I  perished?  How  often  have  I  been  as 
nearly  damned  as  Simon  was  nearly  drowned  in  the 
deep  waters  and  stormy  waves  of  Galilee  ?  How  great, 
0  Lord,  has  been  thy  mercy  towards  me ;  thou  hast 
brought  up  my  soul  from  the  lowest  hell ! 

We  know  that  men  have  turned  this  doctrine  to  a 
bad  purpose,  just  as  to  a  bad  purpose  many  turn  the 
best  gifts  of  providence.  But  it  is  no  reason  why  the 
children  should  be  starved  that  dogs  sometimes  steal 
their  meat.  The  man  who  presumes  on  this  doctrine 
to  continue  in  sin  because  grace  abounds,  affords  in  his 
very  presumption  the  plainest,  strongest  evidence  that 
he  never  has  been  converted- — -just  as  the  falling  star 
by  falling  proves  that  it  never  was  a  true  star,  never 
was  a  thing  of  heaven,  though  it  seemed  to  shoot 
through  the  stellar  regions,  and  by  a  train  of  light 
illumined  its  dusky  path,  never  was  other  than  an 
atmospheric  meteor,  "  of  the  earth,  earthy."  The 
best,  indeed,  in  a  sense,  will  fall,  and  do  often  fall ; 
but  he  who  rises  from  his  falls,  whose  sins  are  the 
occasions  of  bitter  sorrow,  whose  peace  is  the  child, 
and  whose  faith  is  the  parent  of  love,  can,  I  believe,  no 
more  drop  out  of  Christ,  than  a  true,  God-made  star, 
can  drop  out  of  heaven.  He  will  keep  that  which 
God  has  committed  to  him.  He  will  perfect  that  which 
concerneth  them. 


324  THE  BEGINNING. 


How  can  it  be  otherwise  ?  He  is  ever  near  to 
them  that  call  upon  him,  and  that  never  can  happen  to 
them  which  befell  a  child  who  had  heedlessly  wandered 
from  its  mother's  side.  She  sought  her  darling  all  round 
her  cottage,  and  wherever  he  had  been  wont  to  play. 
Alarmed,  she  rushed  into  the  gloomy  forest  that  grew 
by  her  moorland  home  ;  she  called  ;  in  frantic  terror,  she 
shrieked  his  name.  No  answer ;  he  was  a  lost  child.  A 
child  lost !  the  tidings  spread  like  wild-fire  through  the 
hamlet ;  and  some  leaving  business,  others  pleasure,  the 
country-side  rose  for  the  search;  and  through  that 
weary  night,  glen  and  mountain,  moor  and  den,  rung 
with  the  shouts,  and  gleamed  with  the  lights  of  anxious 
searchers.  The  coming  morn  ushered  in  the  Sabbath, 
but  brought  no  rest.  Believing  that  mercy  was  better 
than  sacrifice,  and  that  had  He  who  came  to  seek  and 
save  the  losf^been  there,  He  would  have  led  the  way, 
they  resumed  the  search ;  and  for  the  first  time  the  feet 
of  piety  turned  from  the  house  of  God.  But  all  in  vain. 
Now  hope  was  burning  low  even  in  the  mother's  breast, 
and  the  stoutest  hearts  were  sinking,  when  a  woman, 
guided  doubtless  by  God  to  the  spot,  heard  a  feeble  cry, 
a  low  moaning  sound.  One  thrill  of  joy,  one  bounding 
spring,  and  there,  with  its  dying  face  to  heaven,  lay 
the  poor  lost  child  before  her  on  the  cold  ground,  its 
young  life  ebbing  fast,  as  it  faintly  cried,  "  Mother, 
mother!"  It  was  saved,  yet  how  nearly  lost;  and 
nearly  lost  because  it  had  wandered  far  from  a  mother's 
ear  and  a  mother's  eye.  Its  danger  is  never  ours. 
From  Christ  no  darkness  hides,  no  distance  parts  us; 


\ 


THE  BEGTNNT?:a.  325 


and  through  whatever  clangers  his  people  have  to  pass, 
though  they  but  turn  the  brink  of  the  pit,  the  very 
edge  of  hell,  though  their  escapes  are  so  narrow  that 
the  righteous  scarcely  are  saved,  he  will  make  good 
his  words,  I  give  unto  them  eternal  life ;  and  they 
shall  never  perish. 


THE  FIEST-BORN  FEOM  THE  DEAD. 

The  first-born  from  the  dead ;  that  in  all  things  he  might  have  the 
pre-eminence. — Colossiaks  i.  18. 

*P^EATH  is  an  event  we  do  not  attempt  to  shut  out 
of  view.  Here,  our  city  has  its  cemeteries,  which, 
by  their  taste  and  beauty,  rather  attract  than  repel  a 
visit.  There,  where  hoary  trees  fling  their  shadow  on 
graves,  stands  the  rural  church,  within  whose  humble 
walls  the  living  worship  in  closest  neighbourhood  with 
the  dead ;  a  type  of  heaven,  the  approach  to  that  sanc- 
tuary is  by  a  path  which  passes  through  the  realms  of 
death.  When  death  occurs  among  us,  friends  and  neigh- 
bours are  invited  to  the  funeral ;  and  in  broad  day  the 
sad  procession,  following  the  nodding  hearse,  wends 
slowly  along  our  most  public  streets.  The  spot  that 
holds  our  dead  we  sometimes  visit,  and  always  regard 
as  a  sort  of  sacred  ground  ;  there  a  monument  is  raised 
to  record  their  virtues ;  or  a  willow,  with  its  weeping 
branches  flung  over  the  grave,  expresses  our  grief ;  or 
a  pine  or  laurel,  standing  there  in  evergreen  beauty 
when  frosty  blasts  have  stripped  the  woods,  symbolises 
the  hopes  of  the  living,  and  the  immortality  of  the 
dead ;  or  our  hand  plants  some  sweet  flowers,  which, 


THE  FIRST-BORN  FROM  THE  DEAD.  327 

though  they  shed  their  blossoms  as  our  hopes  were  shed, 
and  hide  their  heads  awhile  beneath  the  turf,  spring  up 
again  to  remind  us  how  the  dear  ones  who  there  sleep 
in  Jesus  are  awaiting  the  resurrection  of  the  just. 

I  have  read  of  a  tribe  of  savages  that  have  very 
different  customs.  They  bury  their  dead  in  secret,  by 
the  hands  of  unconcerned  officials.  No  grassy  mound, 
no  memorial  stone  guides  the  poor  mother's  steps  to 
the  quiet  corner  where  her  infant  lies.  The  grave  is 
levelled  with  the  soil ;  and  afterwards,  as  some  to  forget 
their  loss  drive  the  world  and  its  pleasures  over  their 
hearts,  a  herd  of  cattle  is  driven  over  and  over  the 
ground,  till  every  trace  of  the  burial  has  been  obliterated 
by  their  hoofs.  Anxious  to  forget  death  and  its  incon- 
solable griefs,  these  heathen  resent  any  allusion  to  the 
dead.  You  may  not  speak  of  them.  In  a  mother's 
hearing,  name,  however  tenderly,  her  lost  one,  recall  a 
dead  father  to  the  memory  of  his  son,  and  there  is  no 
injury  which  they  feel  more  deeply.  From  the  thought 
of  the  dead  their  hearts  recoil. 

How  strange  !  How  unnatural !  No,  not  unnatural. 
Benighted  heathen,  their  grief  has  none  of  the  allevia- 
tions which  are  balm  to  our  wounds,  none  of  the  hopes 
that  bear  us  up  beneath  a  weight  of  sorrows.  Th^ir 
dead  are  sweet  flowers  withered,  never  to  revive ;  joys 
gone,  never  to  return.  To  remember  them  is  to  keep 
open  a  rankling  wound,  and  preserve  the  memory  of  a 
loss  which  was  bitter  to  feel  and  still  is  bitter  to  think 
of;  a  loss  which  brought  only  grief  to  the  living,  and  no 
gain  to  the  dead.     To  me,  says  Paul,  to  live  is  Christ, 


328  THE  FIRST-BORN  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

and  to  die  is  gain.  They  know  nothing  of  this  ;  nothing 
of  the  hopes  that  associate  our  dead  in  Christ  with  sinless 
souls,  and  sunny  skies,  and  shining  angels,  and  songs 
seraphic,  and  crowns  of  glory,  and  harps  of  gold. 
Memory  is  only  a  curse,  from  which  they  seek  relief  by 
removing  the  picture  from  the  chambers  of  their  imagery, 
or  turning  its  face  to  the  wall. 

Without  the  hope  of  a  better  world,  apart  from 
mercy,  pardon,  grace,  and  glory,  through  the  blood  of 
Jesus  Christ,  what  were  death  to  me,  or  to  any,  but  an 
object  of  unutterable  gloom  ?  I  shrink  from  seeing  it. 
With  all  the  strong  consolations  of  the  gospel,  ah !  what 
sight  so  bitter  as  to  see  a  loved  one  dying ;  our  sweet 
flower  withering  day  by  day  on  its  drooping  stalk ;  the 
cold  shadow  of  death,  like  an  eclipse,  creeping  over  the 
whole  horizon  of  our  being,  till,  one  hope  after  another 
disappearing,  the  case  assuming  a  gloomier  and  yet 
gloomier  aspect,  we  are  left,  but  for  the  inner  light  of 
the  Spirit  and  God's  truth,  in  blank  despair?  As  we 
hang  over  the  dying  couch  or  cradle,  how  it  wrings  the 
heart  to  see  the  imploring  look  turned  on  us,  and  we 
can  give  no  relief;  to  hear  the  low  moanings,  and  we 
cannot  still  them ;  and  when  the  struggle  is  long  pro- 
tracted, to  be  forced  to  pray  that  God  in  mercy  would 
drop  the  curtain,  and  close  this  dreadful  scene.  There 
is  no  event  so  terrible  as  death.  There  is  no  sound  so 
awful  as  that  last  sigh.  There  is  no  coldness  feels 
so  chill  to  the  hand  as  the  brow  or  face  of  the  dead. 
And  when,  in  place  of  one  full  once  of  light,  and  life, 
and   love,  our  arms  embrace  a  pale,  clay-cold  corpse, 


THE  FIKST-BORN  FROM  THE  DEAD.  329 

when,  for  the  smiling  face,  childhood's  pattering  feet,  and 
prattling  tongue,  and  bright  sparkling  eye,  and  merry 
laughter,  we  have  nothing  but  that  solemn  countenance, 
that  rigid  form,  that  marble  brow,  that  cold  clammy  hand, 
that  silent  tenant  of  a  lonesome  room,  beside  whom  we 
tread  with  noiseless  step,  and,  as  if  afraid  to  disturb 
their  slumbers,  speak  in  hushed  whispers,  and  with  bated 
breath,  verily  death  needs  all  the  consolations  that  rehgion 
can  administer. 

Apart  from  the  hopes  of  a  better  and  a  brighter  world, 
to  one's  self,  also,  what  is  death  but  an  unutterable  evil  ? 
What  weary  hours,  and  days,  and  nights,  are  often  pre- 
ludes to  the  closing  scene.  And  that  scene !  what 
terrible  sufferings  may  we  have  to  endure,  and  others 
have  to  witness  in  our  dying  chamber?  How  may  they 
resemble  those  appalling  struggles  amid  which  the  dying 
man  seemed  to  us  to  be  doing  battle  with  an  invisible 
enemy,  who  had  him  by  the  throat,  and  whom  he  was 
trying,  but  in  vain  trying,  to  throw  off?  Steps  he  into  a 
palace  or  a  hovel.  Death,  without  any  question  the  King 
of  Terrors,  presents  the  features  of  a  tremendous  curse 
in  that  ghastly  countenance,  the  fixed  and  filmy  eyes, 
the  restless  head,  the  wild  tossing  of  the  arms,  the  hands 
that,  as  if  they  sought  something  to  cling  to,  clutch  the 
bed-clothes,  the  muttering  lips,  the  wandering  mind,  the 
deep  insensibility,  the  heavy  breathing,  the  awful  pauses, 
and  that  long-drawn,  shivering  sigh,  which  closes  the 
scene,  and  seems  to  say,-  as  the  departing  spirit,  ere  it 
quit  the  bounds  of  time,  casts  one  last  look  on  all  that 

p2 


330  THE  FIRST-BORN  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

is  past  and  gone,  Vanity  of  vanities,  all  is  vanity  and 
vexation  of  spirit. 

Solomon  pronounces  a  living  dog  to  be  better  tliau 
a  dead  lion ;  and  I  say,  better  be  a  living  beggar  than 
a  dead  king.  I  love  life ;  T  love  to  walk  abroad  and 
see  the  sun  shine,  and  hear  the  birds  sing,  and  wander 
by  rippling  stream,  or  sit  on  banks  where  sweet  flowers 
grow ;  I  love  the  homes  where  I  look  on  happy  faces 
smiling,  receive  welcome  greetings,  and  hear  kind  voices 
speaking.  To  have  all  these  shut  out,  to  be  nailed  up 
in  a  narrow  coffin,  to  be  buried  in  the  dull  earth,  to 
moulder  amid  silence  into  dust,  to  be  forgotten,  and, 
when  fires  are  cheerily  blazing  on  our  own  hearth,  and 
songs  and  laughter  by  their  merry  ring  tell  how  broken 
hearts  are  sound  again,  to  think  of  ourselves  lying 
cold,  and  lonely,  and  joyless  in  the  tomb,  are  not  things 
we  love  to  dwell  on.  Our  Lord  himself  shrank  from 
death ;  he  cast  himself  at  his  Father's  feet,  to  cry  in  an 
agony,  If  it  be  possible  let  this  cup  pass  from  me. 
And  who,  unless  some  unhappy  wretch,  courts  death, 
wishes  to  die,  to  lie  down  among  those  naked  skulls,  and 
the  grim  unsocial  tenants  of  the  grave  ?  Faith  herself 
turns  away  from  the  thought.  Standing  on  the  edge 
of  the  grave,  she  turns  her  eye  upward  ;  and,  leaving 
the  poor  body  to  worms  and  dust,  she  wings  her  flight 
heavenward,  follows  the  spirit  to  the  realms  of  bliss, 
and  loves  to  think  of  the  dead  as  living ;  as  not  dead ; 
as  standing  before  the  Lamb  with  crowns  of  glory,  and 
bending  on  us  looks  of  love  and  kindness  from  their 


THE  FIRST-BORN  FROM  THE  DEAD.  331 

celestial  seats.  Yes ;  death  needs  all  the  comforts  that 
religion  can  summon  to  our  aid. 

Nor  has  Christ  left  his  people  comfortless.  By  his 
life,  and  death,  and  resurrection,  he  has  fulfilled  the  high 
expectations  of  prophets ;  nor,  bold  as  it  is,  is  the  lan- 
guage too  lofty  which  Hosea  puts  into  his  mouth,  0 
death,  I  will  be  thy  plagues ;  0  grave,  I  will  be  thy 
destruction.  The  death  of  Death,  the  life  of  the  grave 
and  greatest  of  all  its  tenants,  he  has  conquered  the 
conqueror  of  kings ;  he  has  broken  the  prison,  he  has 
bound  the  jailer,  he  has  seized  the  keys,  and  he  comes 
in  the  fulness  of  time  to  set  all  his  imprisoned  people 
free.  They  are  prisoners  of  hope.  He  will  bring  back 
his  banished.  He  has  entered  into  glory  as  their  fore- 
runner, or,  as  my  text  calls  him,  "  the  first-born  from 
the  dead." 

Let  us  consider  in  what  respects  Christ  is  "  the 
first-born  from  the  dead." 

I.  He  is  so  in  the  dignity  of  his  person.  He  is  the 
greatest  who  ever  entered,  or  shall  ever  leave,  the 
gates  of  death. 

In  one  of  the  boldest  flights  of  fancy,  Isaiah  sets 
forth  the  destruction  of  the  Babylonian  monarchy.  He 
sees  a  mighty  king  descending  into  the  grave,  breaking 
its  awful  silence.  His  footsteps  disturb  the  dead ;  they 
raise  themselves  in  their  coffins ;  and  as  he  enters  alone 
the  dark  domain  of  a  monarch  mightier  than  himself,  on 
his  ear  fall  the  voices  of  kings  long  buried,  muttering, 


332  THE  FIRST-BORN  FROM  THE  DEAD. 


Art  thou  also  become  as  we  ?  Art  thou  become  like  unto 
us  ?  When  we  die  we  sink  into  the  grave  like  raindrops 
into  the  sea,  as  snow-flakes  alight  on  the  water;  for 
however  man's  death  may  for  a  little  agitate  some 
living  circles,  it  never  stirs  the  dead.  But  Jesus  Christ 
being  the  Lord  of  glor}^  the  fountain  of  life,  the  creator 
of  the  sun  that  darkened  over  his  cross,  and  of  the 
moon  that  shed  her  silver  light  on  his  lonely  sepulchre, 
his  descent  into  the  tomb  was  an  event  which  might 
well  be  set  forth  in  the  prophet's  magnificent  imagery, 
I  can  fancy  all  the  dead  astonished  at  his  coming ;  and 
that,  as  he  enters  the  domain  of  the  grave,  a  spirit-voice 
breaks  its  silence,  saying,  "  It  is  moved  for  thee  to  meet 
thee  at  thy  coming ;  it  stirreth  up  the  dead  for  thee, 
even  all  the  chief  ones  of  the  earth ;  it  hath  raised  up 
from  their  thrones  all  the  kings  of  the  nations.  All 
they  shall  speak  and  say  unto  thee.  Art  thou  also  be- 
come weak  as  we  ?     Art  thou  become  like  unto  us?" 

Fancy  some  great,  good,  brave,  patriotic  monarch, 
bound  in  chains,  and  after  being  ignominiously  paraded 
through  the  public  streets,  thrust  into  the  common 
gaol,  to  exchange  the  glory  of  a  palace  for  the  gloom 
and  shame  of  a  dungeon.  How  would  such  an  event 
iinpiess  the  spectators  with  the  mutability  of  earthly 
greatness!  And  were  such  a  reverse  of  fortune  borne 
out  of  love  to  his  subjects,  how  would  it  win  their 
admiration,  how  would  it  move  their  love  as  well  as 
pity !  Yet,  what  were  such  an  event  to  that  which, 
unnoticed  by  the  world,  is  passing  in  yonder  garden, 
where    by  the  waning  light    of   day  two  men   and  a 


THE  FIRST-BORN  FROM  THE  DEAD.  333 

group  of  weeping  women,  amid  silence  broken  only  by 
sobs  and  soft  whispers,  are  laying  a  dead  body  on 
a  hurriedly-prepared  bed  of  spices?  Nor  man's,  nor 
angel's  eyes,  had  ever  looked  on  a  scene  so  wonderful. 
Solomon  had  said.  Will  God  in  very  deed  dwell  with 
men  on  the  earth  ?  but  what  would  Solomon  have 
said,  had  he  seen  the  young  child  in  the  manger, 
still  more,  had  he  seen  the  lonely  tenant  of  that 
tomb?  Whom  the  heaven  of  heavens  cannot  contain, 
here  a  sepulchre  holds.  Repulsive  to  the  eye  as  are  these 
skulls  and  mouldering  bones,  the  grave  boasts  of  having 
held  some  nights  within  its  chambers  one  who,  while 
he  honoured  lowly  cottages  with  his  visits,  was  greater 
than  any  whom  palaces  have  opened  to  receive.  The 
language  of  the  prophet  is  literally  accomplished.  The 
regions  of  death  were  moved  at  Jesus'  coming.  Never 
before,  never  since,  has  the  opening  of  these  gates 
awakened  those  within.  They  sleep  too  sound  for  that. 
How  unmoved  do  parents  lie  when  their  children  are 
laid  by  their  side ;  the  mother  never  flings  her  arms 
about  the  dear  babe  that  death  restores  to  her  bosom ; 
and  to  the  cry  of  room,  room,  the  unmannerly  beggar  stirs 
not  to  make  way  for  a  king.  They  neither  revere  the 
good,  nor  respect  the  great.  They  feel  no  love  there ; 
and,  unhke  the  burst  of  joy,  the  rushing  into  each 
other's  embrace,  the  smiles,  the  tears,  when  the  loving 
and  long  parted  meet  again  on  earth,  how  cold  and 
dreary  the  reunions  of  the  grave,  these  silent  meetings 
of  the  dead ! 

But  Christ's  descent    into  the  tomb  roused  death 


334  THE  FIRST-BORN  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

from  its  deepest  apathy.  That  awoke  those  who  are 
heedless  of  the  shock  of  earthquakes.  The  dead  were 
moved  at  his  coming.  The  graves  were  opened.  The 
inspired  poet's  fancy  became  a  literal  fact.  And, 
waiting  for  him  to  lead  the  way,  many  dead  saints 
left  the  tomb  on  the  morning  of  his  resurrection ;  in 
them  he  led  captivity  captive,  and  was  followed  by 
the  strangest  train  that  ever  graced  the  triumph  of  a 
returning  conqueror.  If  we  should  certainly  con- 
clude that  the  jailer  has  been  beaten  and  bound,  when 
we  see  the  captives  pouring  from  the  open  prison, 
how  plainly  do  those  yawning  tombs,  untouched  by 
mortal  hand,  and  these  dead  men,  who  return  alive  to 
Jerusalem,  show  that  the  long  reign  of  death  is  draw- 
ing to  a  close,  and  the  oldest  of  earth's  kingdoms 
tottering  to  its  fall.  Their  escape  plainly  proved  that 
death  had  received  from  Christ's  hand,  what  no  other 
hand  could  deal,  a  mortal  blow.  Thus,  all  the  circum- 
stances that  signalized  alike  our  Lord's  descent  into  the 
tomb  and  his  triumphant  resurrection,  proclaim  him,  as 
with  the  sound  of  royal  trumpets,  the  first  and  greatest 
of  the  dead. 

II.   Because  he  rose  by  his  own  power. 

There  is  no  sensibility  in  the  dead.  The  eyelids 
your  fingers  have  closed  open  no  more  to  the  light  of 
day.  The  morning  raises  up  all  within  the  house  to 
a  fresh  sense  of  bereavement :  without,  it  wakens  busi- 
ness, pleasure,  the  music  of  skies  and  groves;  but  it 


THE  FIRST-BORN  FROM  THE  DEAD.  535 

wakens  not  the  sleeper  in  that  locked  and  lonely  chamber, 
who,  once  dreading  to  be  left  alone,  is  alike  fearless  now 
of  darkness  and  of  solitude. 

There  is  no  passion  in  the  dead.  The  sight  of 
them  affects  us,  not  our  grief  and  sorrow  them ;  as  well 
kiss  marble  as  that  icy  brow  ;  our  tears  will  flow,  nor 
does  Christ  forbid  them ;  but  their  hottest  gushes  thaw 
not  the  fountains  that  death  has  frozen. 

There  is  no  power  in  the  dead.  The  cold  hand  you 
lift  drops ;  the  poor  body  lies  as  it  is  laid.  And,  so 
soon  as  that  last  long  sigh  is  drawn,  though  the  colour 
still  lingers  on  the  cheek,  and  the  limbs  are  not  yet 
stififened  into  cold  rigidity,  they  can  rise  no  more  than 
the  ashes  on  the  hearth  can  resume  their  original  form, 
and  change  into  what  once  they  were,  a  branch  green 
with  leaves,  and  decked  with  fragrant  blossoms.  The 
dead  can  do  nothing  to  help  themselves.  In  all  cases  but 
Christ's  resurrection,  life  was  not  resumed,  but  restored  ; 
it  was  given,  not  taken  back.  At  the  grave  of  Lazarus 
it  proceeded  from  Christ's  lips,  wafted  on  the  air  to  the 
ear  of  death.  At  the  gate  of  Nain  it  passed  from  Christ's 
hand,  streaming,  like  the  electric  fluid,  into  the  body  of 
the  widow's  son.  And  there,  where  Elisha  lies  stretched 
on  the  Shunammite's  dead  boy,  his  eyes  on  the  child's 
eyes,  his  hands  on  the  child's  hands,  his  lips  on  the 
child's  lips,  that  prostrate  praying  man  forms  a  connect- 
ing medium  by  which  life  flows  out  of  Him  in  whom  is 
its  fulness,  to  fill  a  vessel  that  death  has  emptied.  And, 
at  the  last  day,  we  ourselves  shall  not  awake,  but  be 
wakened,  roused  from  sleep  by  the  trump  of  God,  as, 


336  THE  FIRST-BOEN  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

blown  by  an  angel's  breath,  it  sounds  throughout  the 
world,  echoing  in  the  deepest  caves  of  ocean,  and  rend- 
ing the  marble  of  the  tomb. 

Now  look  at  our  Lord's  resurrection.  He  rose  in 
the  silent  night ;  no  hand  at  the  door,  no  voice  in  his 
ear,  no  rough  touch  awaking  him.  Other  watchers 
than  Pilate's  soldiers  stood  by  the  sepulchre ;  but  these 
angels  whom  it  well  became  to  keep  guard  at  this  dead 
man's  chamber  door,  beyond  opening  it,  beyond  rolling 
away  the  stone,  beyond  looking  on  with  wondering 
eyes,  took  no  part  in  the  scenes  of  that  eventful  morn- 
ing. The  hour  sounds ;  the  appointed  time  arrives. 
Having  slept  out  his  sleep,  Jesus  stirs ;  he  awakes  of 
his  own  accord ;  he  rises  by  his  own  power ;  and 
arranging,  or  leaving  attending  angels  to  arrange,  the 
linen  clothes,  he  walks  out  on  the  dewy  ground,  beneath 
the  starry  sky,  to  turn  grief  into  the  greatest  joy,  and 
hail  the  breaking  of  the  brightest  morn  that  ever  rose 
on  this  guilty  world.  That  open  empty  tomb  assures 
us  of  a  day  when  ours  too  shall  be  as  empty.  Having 
raised  himself,  he  has  power  to  raise  his  people.  Panic- 
stricken  soldiers  flying  the  scene,  and  Mary  rising  from 
his  blessed  feet  to  haste  to  the  city,  to  rush  through  the 
streets,  to  burst  in  among  the  disciples,  and  with  a  voice 
of  joy  to  cry.  He  is  risen.  He  is  risen!  prove  this  was 
no  vain  brag  or  boast,  "I  lay  down  my  life  that  I 
might  take  it  again.  No  man  taketh  it  from  me,  but 
I  lay  it  down  of  myself.  I  have  power  to  lay  it  down, 
and  I  have  power  to  take  it  again." 


THE  FIRST-BORN  FROM  THE  DEAD.  337 


III.  Because  he  is  the   only  one  who  rose  never  to 
die  again. 

The  child  of  the  Shunammite,  the  daughter  of  the 
ruler,  the  widow  of  Nain's  son,  Lazarus,  and  all  the  saints 
who  followed  our  Lord  from  the  grave,  were  prisoners  on 
parole.  The  grave  took  them  bound  to  return.  Dear- 
bought  honours  theirs !  While  Enoch  and  Elijah  never 
tasted  death,  these  twice  drank  the  bitter  cup  ;  with  one 
cradle,  each  had  two  coffins ;  one  birth,  but  two  burials  ; 
and  thus,  that  God  might  be  glorified,  suffering  pains 
from  which  obscurer  saints  have  been  exempt,  they  in 
part  fulfilled  the  noble  saying  of  that  dauntless  martyr, 
who  declared  his  love  for  Christ  to  be  such,  that  if  he 
had  as  many  lives  as  he  had  grey  hairs  on  his  head, 
he  would  lay  them  all  down  for  him.  These  honoured 
ones  were  out  on  bail.  After  a  while  they  retraced 
their  steps ;  and,  now  lying  in  dusty  death,  they  wait 
the  summons  of  the  resurrection.  But  Jesus  waits  to 
summon,  not  to  be  summoned.  The  grave  holds  them, 
but  heaven  holds  him.  For  heaven,  as  well  as  hell, 
was  moved  at  his  coming;  and  there,  saints  adoring, 
angels  worshipping  at  his  feet,  in  the  very  body  which 
was  stretched  on  the  cross  and  laid  in  the  sepulchre 
for  us,  he  fills  his  Father's  throne.  The  King  of  kings 
and  Lord  of  lords  is  "  He  who  liveth  and  was  dead." 


338  THE  FIRST-BORN  FROM  THE  DEAD. 


IV.  Because   he   has  taken  precedence   of  his  people, 
who  are  all  to  rise  from  their  graves  to  glory. 

It  is  better  for  me,  if  I  am  a  poor  man  standing 
in  need  of  royal  favours,  to  have  a  friend  at  court  than 
in  my  own  humble  cottage ;  and  it  is  better  for  us  that 
Christ  is  with  his  Father  in  heaven  than  with  his  people 
on  earth.  It  is  expedient  for  you,  he  said,  that  I  go 
away.  He  has  gone  to  prepare  a  place  for  us ;  and 
while  his  Spirit  has  come  down  to  take  care  of  the 
business  of  his  church  on  earth,  he  looks  after  and 
watches  over  its  affairs  in  heaven.  He  had  work  to 
do  which  could  not  otherwise  be  done.  He  that  keepeth 
Israel  shall  neither  slumber  nor  sleep.  So,  after  three 
days'  unbroken  rest,  he  rose  to  sleep  no  more,  and  be 
the  first-born  of  the  dead.  Apart  from  that,  precedence 
was  his  right.  It  belonged  to  him  in  the  very  nature 
of  things.  The  king  precedes  his  train ;  the  head  rises 
first  out  of  pit  or  grave,  afterwards  the  body  and  its 
members ;  the  foundation  stone  is  laid  first,  afterwards 
the  etones  of  the  superstructure  ;  the  elder  brother  breaks 
first  from  a  mother's  womb,  afterwards  the  children  of 
whom  he  is  forerunner. 

It  is  as  the  prelude  of  our  own  resurrection,  that 
Christ's  is  to  us  the  object  of  the  greatest  satisfaction 
and  joy.  In  these  cast-off  grave  clothes,  in  that  linen 
shroud  and  napkin,  there  is  more  to  draw  our  eyes, 
and  fix  our  interest,  and  move  our  admiration,  than 
in  the  jewelled  robes  or  royal  purple  of  the  greatest 


THE  F1RST-B(JUN   FROM  THE  DEAD.  339 

monarch  of  earth.  That  empty  tomb,  roughly  hewn 
in  the  rock,  is  a  greater  sight  than  Egypt's  mighty 
pyramids,  or  the  costhest  sepulchres  that  have  received 
the  ashes  of  the  proudest  kings.  How  full  of  meaning 
is  its  very  emptiness!  What  good  news  to  us  in 
Mary's  disappointment !  What  joys  flow  to  us  in  these 
women's  tears!  Thanks  be  to-  God,  they  could  not 
find  him.  He  is  not  there.  No,  Mary !  they  have 
not  taken  away  your  Lord ;  no  robber  has  rifled  that 
sacred  tomb.  See,  the  dew  lies  sparkling  on  the  grass, 
nor  feet  have  brushed  it  but  those  of  one  who  has  left 
the  grave.  He  is  risen  ;  and,  as  the  first  fruits  of  them 
that  sleep,  as  the  first  ripe  sheaf  that  was  offered  to 
the  Lord,  his  resurrection  is  the  pledge  and  promise  of 
a  coming  harvest.  Henceforth  the  grave  holds  but  a 
lease  of  the  saints.  Because  he  rose,  we  shall  rise  also. 
Sweeter  to  our  ear  than  the  full  chorus  of  bright 
skies  and  greenwood,  are  the  first  notes  of  the  warbler 
that  pipes  away  the  winter,  and  breaks  in  on  its 
long,  drear  silence !  And  more  welcome  to  our  eye 
than  the  flush  of  summer's  gayest  flowers,  is  the  simple 
snow-drop  that  hangs  its  pure  white  bell  above  the  dead 
bare  ground.  And  why?  These  are  the  first-born  of 
the  year,  the  forerunners  of  a  crowd  to  follow.  In 
that  group  of  silver  bells  that  ring  in  the  spring  with 
its  joys,  and  loves,  and  singing  birds,  my  fancy's  eye 
sees  the  naked  earth  clothed  in  beauty,  the  streams, 
like  children  let  loose,  dancing,  and  laughing,  and  re- 
joicing in  their  freedom,  bleak  winter  gone,  and  nature's 
annual  resurrection.     And  in  that  solitary  simple  note, 


340  THE  FIRST-BORN  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

my  fancy  hears  the  carol  of  larks,  wild  moor,  hillside, 
and  woodlands  full  of  song,  and  ringing  all  with  music. 
And  in  Christ,  the  first-born,  I  see  the  grave  giving 
up  its  dead ;  from  the  depths  of  the  sea,  from  lonely 
wilderness  and  crowded  churchyard  they  come,  like  the 
dews  of  the  grass,  an  innumerable  multitude.  Risen 
Lord !  we  rejoice  in  thy  resurrection.  We  hail  it  as  the 
harbinger  and  blessed  pledge  of  our  own.  The  first  to 
come  forth,  thou  art  the  elder  brother  of  a  family,  whose 
countless  numbers  the  patriarch  saw  in  the  dust  of  the 
desert,  whose  holy  beauty  he  saw  shining  in  the  bright 
stars  of  heaven. 

The  first-born  !  This  spoils  the  grave  of  its  horrors, 
changing  the  tomb  into  a  capacious  womb  that  death  is 
daily  filling  with  the  germs  of  life.  The  first  fruits ! 
This  explains  why  men  called  the  churchyard,  as  once 
they  did,  God's  acre.  Looking  at  these  grassy  mounds 
in  the  light  of  that  expression,  the  eye  of  faith  sees  it 
change  into  a  field  sown  with  the  seeds  of  immortality. 
Blessed  field !  What  flowers  shall  spring  there  !  What  a 
harvest  shall  be  gathered  there !  In  the  neighbouring 
fields  "  whatsoever  a  man  soweth,  that  shall  he  also  reap ; " 
but  here  how  great  the  difference  between  what  is  sown 
amid  mourners'  tears,  and  what  shall  be  reaped  amid 
angels'  joys ;  between  the  poor  body  we  restore  to  the 
earth,  and  the  noble  form  that  shall  spring  from  its  ashes. 
Who  saw  the  rolling  waves  stand  up  a  rocky  wall ;  who 
saw  the  water  of  Cana  flow  out  rich  purple  wine  ;  who 
saw  Lazarus's  festering  corpse,  with  health  glowing  on  its 
cheek,  and  its  arms  enfolding  sisters  ready  to  faint  with 


THE  FIRST-BORN  FROM  THE  DEAD.  341 

joy,  saw  nothing  to  match  the  change  the  grave  shall 
work  on  these  mouldering  bones.  Sown  in  corruption, 
they  shall  rise  in  incorruption,  mortal  putting  on  immor- 
tality. How  beautiful  they  shall  be !  Never  more  shall 
hoary  time  write  age  on  a  wrinkled  brow.  The  whole 
terrible  troop  of  diseases  cast  with  sin  into  hell,  the 
saints  shall  possess  unfading  beauty,  and  enjoy  a  perpe- 
tual ^''outh ;  a  pure  soul  shall  be  mated  with  a  worthy 
partner  in  a  perfect  body,  and  an  angel  form  shall  lodge 
an  angel  mind.  There  shall  be  no  more  death,  nor 
sighing,  nor  sorrow,  for  there  shall  be  no  more  sin. 

*•  If  we  are  reconciled  to  God  through  Jesus  Christ, 
what  reconciling  views  of  death  does  this  open  up  to  us  ? 
Why  don't  we  think  better  of  death,  and  oftener  of 
death?  No  doubt  his  hand  is  rough,  and  his  voice  is 
gruff,  and,  rudely  seizing  us  by  the  throat,  as  if  he  were 
an  officer  and  we  were  the  prisoners  of  justice,  he  has  none 
of  the  courtly  manners  of  Eleazer  when  he  went  to  bring 
his  bride  home  to  Isaac ;  yet  why  should  those  things 
make  us  overlook  so  much  the  glittering  crown  he 
brings  in  his  grisly  hand,  the  message  he  brings  us  to 
come  away  home.  We  should  be  much  happier  if  we 
familiarised  our  minds  with  this  event,  and  trained  our- 
selves to  think  of  death  more  as  glory  than  as  death,  as 
our  return  to  our  Father  and  our  Father's  house, as  going 
home  to  be  with  Jesus  and  the  saints ;  or,  if  you  will 
have  death  in,  as  the  death  of  all  sin  and  sorrow,  as  the 
death  of  Death.  To  a  child  of  God,  what  are  its  pains 
but  the  pangs  of  birth;  its  battle,  but  the  struggle 
that  precedes  the  victory ;  its  tossings  but  the  swell  and 


342  THE  FIRST-BORN  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

surf  that  beats  on  the  shores  of  eternal  life  ;  its  grave 
but  a  bed  of  peaceful  rest,  where  the  bodies  of  saints 
sleep  out  the  night  that  shall  fly  away  for  ever  before 
the  glories  of  a  resurrection  morn.  I  know  a  churchyard 
where  this  is  strikingly  set  forth  in  the  rude  sculpturing 
of  a  burial  stone.  Beneath  an  angel  figure,  that,  with 
outstretched  wings  and  trumpet  at  the  mouth,  blows  the 
resurrection,  there  lies  a  naked  skull.  Beneath  the 
angel,  and  beside  this  emblem  of  mortality,  two  forms 
stand ;  one  is  the  tenant  of  the  grave  below,  the  other 
it  is  impossible  to  mistake,  it  is  the  skeleton  figure  of 
the  King  of  Terrors.  His  dart  lies  on  the  ground  broken 
in  two,  and  the  hand  that  has  dropped  it  is  stretched  out 
over  the  skull,  and  held  in  the  grasp  of  the  other  figure. 
Enemies  reconciled,  the  man  bravely  shakes  hands 
with  death,  and  his  whole  air  and  bearing  show  that 
they  are  become  sworn  friends.  As  if  he  had  just 
heard  Jesus  announcing,  I  am  the  resurrection  and  the 
life,  you  seem  to  hear  him  saying,  0  death  where  is 
thy  sting,  0  grave  where  is  thy  victory  ?  The  sting  of 
death  is  sin,  and  the  strength  of  sin  is  the  law ;  but 
thanks  be  to  God  who  giveth  me  the  victory  through 
my  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

We  shall  rise  like  Him  who,  in  his  own  resurrection, 
and  in  the  church  he  has  redeemed  with  his  own  blood, 
and  in  the  universe  he  created  by  his  own  power,  has 
the  preeminence,  the  unchallenged  preeminence.  Let 
him  have  it  in  our  thoughts,  our  lives,  our  hearts. 
Who  but  he  should  have  it?  Holy  Spirit!  enable  us 
to  enthrone  in  our  hearts  him  whom  his  Father  hath 


THE  FIRST-BOllN  FROM  THE  DEAD.  343 

enthroned  in  the  heaven  of  heavens.  Preeminence  ! 
Shall  we  give  it  to  the  world  that  hated  him,  to  the 
devil  that  tempted  him,  to  the  sins  that  crucified  him  ? 
Gracious  God,  forbid !  Let  Jesus  have  the  pre- 
eminence !  Help  us,  Lord,  to  love  thee  best,  to  serve 
thee  first,  to  follow  thee,  leaving  all  to  follow  thee. 
If,  in  one  sense,  we  cannot  say.  Whom  have  I  in  heaven 
but  thee,  because  there  we  may  have  father  and  mother, 
brother  and  sister,  and  sweet  children  whom  we  loved, 
and  love  still,  and  will  rejoice  again  to  embrace,  w^e  would 
say,  Thou  art  the  chiefest  among  ten  thousand,  thou  art 
altogether  lovely.  If,  in  one  sense,  we  cannot  say,  There 
is  none  upon  earth  that  I  desire  beside  thee,  we  would 
say,  there  is  none  on  all  the  earth  that  I  desire  before 
thee,  nor  deem  equal  to  thee.  Blessed  Lord,  thy  love 
to  me  was  wonderful,  passing  the  love  of  women.  To 
thee,  as  the  sun  of  my  firmament,  may  the  moon  and 
stars  make  obeisance  ;  to  thee,  as  the  needle  to  its  pole, 
may  my  trembling  heart  be  ever  turning ;  to  thee,  as 
the  waters  seek  the  ocean,  may  my  desires  be  ever 
flowing.  Bend  every  sheaf  to  Joseph's !  Jesus,  the 
best  be  thine,  the  honour  thine,  the  glory  thine,  the 
kingdom  thine.  The  feast  to  thee,  the  fragments  to 
others.  This  ever  be  my  question,  not  What  can  I 
spare  from  myself  for  Christ,  but  What  can  I  spare 
from  Christ  for  myself?  Be  thou  preferred  above  ray 
chief  joy.     In  all  things  have  thou  the  preeminence ! 


THE  FULNESS. 

It  pleased  the  Father,  that  in  Him  should  all  fulness  dwell. 
COLOSSIANS  i.  ]  9. 

r^UR  happiness  depends  in  a  very  small  degree  upon 
what  is  external  to  us.  Its  springs  lie  deep 
within ;  like  those  waters  that,  warm  in  winter  and 
cold  in  summer,  have  their  fountains  bordered  with 
evergreen  grass.  Yet,  how  common  it  is  to  think 
otherwise  !  Hence  the  keen  pursuit  of  pleasure,  lovers' 
sighs,  war's  fierce  ambition,  the  student's  patient  labour 
as  he  feeds  his  midnight  lamp  with  the  oil  of  life,  the 
panting  race  for  riches,  the  desperate  struggles  some 
make  to  keep  themselves  from  sinking  into  poverty,  and 
the  toil  and  trouble  others  endure,  to  say  nothing  of 
the  sins  which  these  may  alike  commit,  to  rise  in  the 
world,  as  it  is  called — to  keep  a  better  table,  to  wear  a 
better  dress,  to  live  in  a  better  house  than  satisfied  their 
humble,  but  happier  parents.  These  paths,  crowded 
and  beaten  down  though  they  be  by  the  feet  of  thou- 
sands who  are  treading  on  each  other's  heels,  never  yet 
conducted  any  man  to  happiness.  Never.  It  Hes  in 
another  direction.  Whatever  be  his  condition,  be  he  poor 
or  rich,  pining  on  a  sick  bed  or  with  health  glowing  on 


THE  FULNESS.  345 


his  cheek,  to  be  married  or  to  be  hanged  to-morrow, 
"  Blessed,"  or,  as  we  should  say,  Happy,  "  is  he  whose 
trangression  is  forgiven,  whose  sin  is  covered.  Blessed 
is  the  man  unto  whom  the  Lord  imputeth  not  iniquity, 
and  in  whose  spirit  there  is  no  guile." 

The  way  to  happiness  does  not  He  in  attempting 
to  bring  our  circumstances  up  to  our  minds,  but  our 
minds  down  to  our  circumstances.  Many  birds  wear  a 
finer  coat  than  the  lark,  nor  is  there  any  that  dwells  in 
a  lowlier  home ;  yet  which  of  the  feathered  songsters 
soars  so  high,  or  sings  so  merrily,  or  teaches  man  so 
well  how  to  leave  the  day's  cares  and  labours  for  the 
bosom  of  his  family,  as  when,  neither  envying  the  pea- 
cock his  splendid  plumage,  nor  the  proud  eagle  her  lofty 
realm,  it  drops  singing  into  its  grassy  nest,  to  caress  its 
young,  and  with  its  wings  to  shield  them  from  the  cold 
dews  of  night?  To  indulge  an  unsanctified  and  insa- 
tiable ambition,  to  attempt  to  bring  our  circumstances 
up  to  our  minds,  is  to  fill  a  sieve  with  water,  or  the 
grave  with  dead,  or  the  sea  with  rivers.  The  pas- 
sions that  in  such  a  case  seek  gratification,  are  like 
that  wretched  drunkard's  thirst ;  they  burn  the  fiercer 
for  indulgence,  and  crave  for  more  the  more  they 
get.  It  is  often  difficult,  I  grant,  to  bring  our  minds 
down  to  our  circumstances,  but  he  attempts  not  a 
difficult,  but  an  impossible  thing,  who  attempts  to  bring 
his  circumstances  up  to  the  height  of  his  ambition. 
Nature,  says  the  old  adage,  is  contented  with  little, 
grace  with  less,  lust  with  nothing.  And  ours  be  the 
happiness  of  him  who,  content  with  less   than   little, 


346  THE  FULNESS. 


pleased  with  whatever  pleases  the  Father,  careful  for 
nothing,  thankful  for  anything,  prayerful  in  everything, 
can  say  with  Paul,  I  have  learned,  in  whatsoever  state 
I  am,  therewith  to  be  content. 

Before  directing  your  attention  to  the  fulness  that 
is  in  Christ,  let  me  embrace  the  opportunity  which  the 
expression  offers  of  exhorting  you, 

I.  To  be  pleased  with  whatever  pleases  God. 

I  have  read  of  an  Italian  who  had  learned  that  diflfi- 
cult  lesson  so  well,  that  all  who  witnessed  his  magnani- 
mity under  the  most  adverse  fortunes,  stood  astonished. 
He  recalled  to  men's  minds  the  grand  saying  of  an  old 
heathen,  that  a  good  man  struggling  with  adversity 
was  a  sight  for  the  gods  to  look  at.  It  was  not  that 
his  natural  temper  was  too  sweet  to  be  soured  or  too 
phlegmatic  to  be  moved ;  nor  was  it  that,  like  a  cold- 
blooded animal,  he  did  not  feel  the  iron  w-hen  it  entered 
his  soul.  No.  He  felt  it  keenly,  and  bore  it  bravely ; 
and  the  secret  of  his  tranquil,  heroic  patience  lay  in 
these  four  things.  First,  he  said,  I  look  within  me,  then 
without  me,  afterwards  beneath  me,  and  last  of  all,  I 
look  above  me. 

First,  he  looked  within  him ;  and  what  saw  he  there? 
Corruption,  guilt,  so  much  unworthiness,  as  led  him 
to  conclude  that  he  deserved  no  good  thing  at  the 
hand  of  God  ;  and  that,  therefore,  whatever  blessings  his 
calamities  had  left  to  him,  were  more  than  he  had  any 
right  to  expect.     We  write  our  blessings  on  the  water. 


THE  FULNESS.  347 


but  our  afflictions  on  the  rock.  Those  are  forgot,  these 
are  remembered ;  and  yet,  if  we  turn  away  our  eyes 
from  our  trials,  and  look  back  on  our  lives  and  in  upon 
our  hearts,  how  would  that  check  each  rising  rebellious 
murmur?  Gratitude  would  temper  our  grief;  and 
though  we  might  continue  to  mourn,  we  should  say 
with  David,  I  will  sing  of  mercy  and  judgment? 

Next,  he  looked  without  him,  and  there  he  saw,  what 
you  all  may  see,  many  more  severely  tried  than  him- 
self; thousands  in  point  of  merit  not  more  unworthy, 
yet  in  point  of  circumstances  much  more  unhappy. 
Would  it  not  help  to  clear  away  the  vapours,  and  rebuke 
the  discontent,  and  improve  the  temper  of  some  grum- 
blers among  us,  were  they  now  and  then  to  visit  the 
sad  abodes  of  wretchedness  and  poverty?  It  would 
certainly  teach  them  how  thankful  they  ought  to  be  that 
they  are  not  as  many  are,  and  how  thankful  many  would 
be  to  be  as  they  are.  Have  I  not  seen  many  a  poor 
wretch  in  this  world  who  would  gladly  change  places  with 
those  of  you  that  are  most  weary  of  your  burdens, 
and  almost  weary  of  your  life.  How  has  it  reconciled  us 
to  the  discomforts  of  a  cold,  blustering  storm  on  land, 
to  think  of  the  poor  seamen  who  were  tossing  on  the  deep 
in  dread  of  shipwreck,  or  hanging  on  by  the  shrouds,  or 
whelmed  in  the  ocean,  their  last  prayer  washed  from 
their  lips,  their  cries  for  help  drowned  in  the  roar  of 
breakers.  When  we  lay  stretched  on  a  bed  of  sickness, 
with  kind  faces  around  us,  angels,  as  it  were,  ministering 
to  our  wants,  it  has  helped  to  reconcile  us  to  the  weary 
pillow  to  think  of  them  who,  far  from  home,  lay  bleed- 


348  THE  FULNESS. 


ing  on  the  battle-field,  none  near  to  raise  their  drooping 
head,  or  to  answer  their  dying  cry  of  "  water,  water ! " 
And  when  death,  unwelcome  visitor,  entered  our  home, 
ah!  the  one  coffin  felt  less  heavy,  when,  looking  on 
sweet  ones  left,  we  thought  of  dwellings  that  the  spoiler 
had,  or  had  all  but  desolated.  Such  a  thought  has 
calmed  the  troubled  breast,  and  said  to  murmuring 
passions,  Peace,  be  still.  It  is  with  its  potent  spell 
that  in  this  humble  cottage  a  pious  peasant  approaches 
a  mother  who,  wringing  her  hands,  hangs  in  wild, 
frantic,  terrible  grief,  over  the  body  of  her  dead  babe ; 
by  the  wildness  of  her  passion,  as  a  vehement  wind 
beats  down  the  sea,  calming  the  grief  of  others.  Lay- 
ing her  hand  kindly  on  her  shoulder,  she  says,  with 
eyes  full  of  tears,  and  a  voice  trembling  with  emotion, 
"  Hush,  Mary;  you  have  but  one  pair  of  empty  httle  shoes 
to  look  on.  Be  you  thankful.  I  have  six  of  them." 
And,  when  most  severely  tried,  and  all  God's  billows 
seem  to  be  going  over  us,  besides  feeling  that  we  are 
visited  with  far  less  than  our  iniquities  deserve,  we  have 
only  to  look  abroad  to  see  that  our  afflictions  are  fewer 
than  those  which  many  others  suffer. 

He  looked  next  beneath  him.  And  there,  to  his 
fancy's  eye,  lay  his  grave ;  a  green  grassy  mound,  six 
feet  of  earth !  How  foolish  it  seemed  to  repine  over 
the  loss  of  broad  lands,  when  so  small  a  portion  of  this 
earth  was  all  he  soon  would  need,  and  all,  though 
stretched  out  at  his  full  length,  he  could  occupy ! 
That  man  blunts  the  keen  edge  of  misfortune,  who 
meets  its  stroke  with  the  thought,  that  when  it  does  its 


THE  FULNESS.  349 


worst,  it  cannot  strip  him  so  bare  as  death  shall  the 
most  prosperous  and  envied  of  men?  Adversity,  at 
the  worst,  but  takes  time  by  the  forelock,  and,  by 
a  few  brief  years,  anticipates  the  hand  of  the  greatest 
spoiler,  inexorable  death.  We  came  into  the  world 
naked  infants,  and  we  shall  go  out  of  it  as  naked.  We 
brought  nothing  into  this  world,  and  it  is  certain  we 
can  carry  nothing  out.  The  men  of  fortune  shall  not 
carry  away  a  penny  of  their  gains,  nor  the  men  of  fame 
so  much  as  one  leaf  of  their  laurel  crowns.  When 
life's  play  in  all  its  acts  is  over,  and  the  curtain  drops, 
and  the  lights  are  put  out,  and  the  stage  is  deserted, 
its  kings,  queens,  priests,  soldiers,  peasants,  statesmen, 
dropping  their  distinctive  characters,  must  all  return  to 
one  common  level.  There  is  one  event  to  all.  And 
let  us  remember  that  it  shall  be  with  us  as  with  those 
actors  on  the  stage  whom  men  applaud,  not  because  of 
the  parts  they  play,  but  of  the  way  in  which  they  play 
them.  Well  done  from  God,  well  done  from  Christ, 
well  done  from  the  tongues  of  ten  thousand  angels, 
shall  crown  the  life  of  a  good  servant,  but  not  the  life 
of  a  bad  sovereign.  God  has  no  respect  for  persons, 
but  will  reward  every  man,  not  according  to  his  place, 
but  according  to  the  way  he  filled  it.  He  shall  reward 
every  man  according  to  his  work. 

He  looked  last  of  all  above  him,  and  saw  his  home 
in  heaven.  And  how  should  that  glorious  prospect 
sustain  us  under  our  severest  trials  I  To  that  refuge 
our  thoughts  may  always  fly  ;  and  as  there  is  no  pit  so 
deep  but  it  has  that  opening  over  head,  though  it  may  be 


350  THE  FULNESS. 


dark  below  and  all  around,  it  is  alwaj^s  bright  above  us. 
Let  the  world  reel  and  shake,  let  banks  break,  let  sudden 
changes  whelm  affluence  into  the  lowest  depths  of  poverty, 
let  convulsion  succeed  convulsion,  till  the  stateliest  fabrics 
and  firmest  fortunes  are  hurled  into  the  dust,  how  blessed 
at  such  a  time  to  know  that  heaven  is  sure.  No  tempests 
sweep  its  sea  of  glass.  Up  there  it  is  calm  when  it  is 
stormy  here  ;  up  there  it  is  clear  when  it  is  cloudy 
here ;  up  there  it  is  day  when  it  is  darkness  here ;  nor 
are  those  realms  of  bliss  any  more  affected  by  the  events 
of  earth,  than  are  the  stars  of  the  firmament  by  the 
earthquakes  that  shake  our  world,  or  the  thunders  that 
shake  our  skies.  By  considerations  like  these  we  should 
strengthen  our  minds,  and  give  them  that  firmness  of 
texture  which  shall  preserve  us  from  devouring  cares,  as 
solid,  close-grained  oak  is  preserved  from  those  insects 
that  eat  out  the  heart  of  softer  woods.  Let  God  give 
his  blessing  to  such  thoughts,  and  they  will  enable  a 
Christian  man  to  meet  evil  as  the  mountain  crag  looks 
out  on  the  approaching  storm. 

Yet  the  Italian's  explanation  of  his  equanimity  under 
afflictions  to  which  all  of  us  are  exposed,  and  against 
which,  therefore,  we  do  well  to  be  fortified,  does  not 
bring  out  the  grandest  secret  of  a  calm,  resigned,  happy 
spirit ;  the  secret  of  a  patriarch's  unparalleled  patience 
and  of  a  prophet's  dauntless  courage.  That  lies  not  so 
much  in  looking  within,  or  looking  without,  in  dropping 
our  eye  on  the  grave,  or  raising  it  to  the  crown,  as  in 
looking  to  God.  The  brightest  light  that  falls  on  our 
trials  issues  from  his  throne.     That  changed  the  whole 


THE  FULNESS.  351 


aspect  of  Job's  afflictions,  and  hence,  his  well-known 
exclamation.  The  Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord  hath  taken 
away  ;  blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord.  And  what  also 
but  a  sight  of  God  inspired  the  courage  with  which  the 
prophet  eyed  the  approach  of  misfortune,  defying  it  as  a 
man  on  a  rock  defies  the  swelling  billows  of  an  angry  sea. 
."  Although  the  fig  tree  shall  not  blossom,  neither  shall 
fruit  be  in  the  vines  ;  the  labour  of  the  olive  shall  fail, 
and  the  fields  shall  yield  no  meat ;  the  flock  shall  be 
cut  ofi*  from  the  fold,  and  there  shall  be  no  herd  in  the 
stalls :  yet  I  will  rejoice  in  the  Lord,  I  will  joy  in  the 
God  of  my  salvation." 

Extravagant  as  that  may  sound  in  the  ears  of  some, 
it  is  the  language  of  a  calm,  sober,  solid  faith.  For  what 
in  reason  should  hinder  him  who  sees  in  God  a  Father,  and 
believes  that  all  events  proceed  from  his  hand,  and  are 
managed  by  his  wisdom,  and  are  prompted  by  his  love, 
from  kissing  the  rod,  and  saying.  Father,  not  my  will,  but 
thine  be  done  ;  from  taking  the  cup  and  draining  it  to  the 
bitterest  dregs.  We  have  perfect  confidence  in  his  wisdom 
and  in  his  love  ;  and  we  only  do  him  the  justice  which 
we  would  expect  from  our  own  children  when  we  believe 
that  he  doth  not  afflict  willingly,  nor  grieve  the  children 
of  men,  nor  ever  chastens  but  in  love.  His  was  a  noble 
saying  who,  when  his  crops  were  rotting  in  flooded 
fields,  and  ruin  stared  him  from  the  scowling  heavens, 
and  other  men  cursed  the  weather,  on  being  asked  his 
reason  for  saying  that  it  pleased  him,  replied,  It  pleases 
God  to  send  it,  and  whatever  pleases  him  pleases  me. 
That  sounds  like  an  echo  of  the  old  prophet's  voice ; 


352  THE  FULNESS. 


and  we  are  ready  to  envy  a  man  whose  faith  could 
triumph  over  such  great  misfortunes.  Yet  why  should 
we  not  lie  as  calmly  in  the  arms  of  God's  providence 
as  we  lay  in  infancy  on  a  mother's  breast?  Having 
an  ever-living,  an  everlasting,  an  ever-loving  father 
in  God,  how  may  we  welcome  all  providences;  and, 
drawing  some  good  from  every  evil,  as  the  bee  extracts 
honey  even  from  poisoned  flowers,  how  may  we  say, 
"  Our  light  affliction,  which  is  but  for  a  moment,  worketh 
for  us  a  far  more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory !" 
Sweetly  submissive  to  the  will  of  God,  shall  it  not  fare 
with  us  as  with  the  pliant  reeds  that  love  the  hollows  and 
fringe  the  margin  of  the  lake,  and  bending  to  the  blast,  not 
resisting  it,  raise  their  heads  anew,  unharmed  by  the  storm 
that  has  snapped  the  mountain  pine,  and  rent  the  hearts 
of  oak  asunder  ?  The  joy  of  the  Lord  is  our  strength. 
Let  us  now  consider  that  which,  while  it  pleased 
God,  will  certainly  please  all  his  people, 

IL   The  fulness  that  is  in  Christ. 

Within  the  palace,  but  without  the  throne-room  of 
Shushan,  Queen  Esther  stands.  They  who  enter  the 
king's  presence  unsummoned  do  it  at  the  peril  of  their 
life  ;  and  resolved  in  a  good  cause  to  dare  the  penalty, 
she  stands  there  with  her  jewelled  foot  upon  the  grave. 
A  noble  spectacle!  not  so  much  for  her  unrivalled  beauty, 
still  less  for  the  splendour  of  her  apparel,  as  for  the 
resolution  to  venture  life,  and  either  save  her  nation  or 
perish  in  the  attempt.     In  her  blooming  youth,  in  the 


THE  FULNESS.  353 


admiration  of  the  court,  in  the  afifections  of  her  hus- 
band, in  her  lofty  rank,  in  her  queenly  honours,  she 
has  everything  to  make  life  attractive.  Hers  is  a  golden 
cup  ;  and  it  is  foaming  of  pleasures  to  the  brim.  But 
her  mind  is  made  up  to  die ;  and  so,  with  a  silent 
prayer,  and  "  if  I  perish,  I  perish,"  on  her  lips,  she 
passes  in,  and  now  stands  mute  and  pallid,  yet  calm 
and  resolute  outside  the  ring  of  nobles,  to  hear  her  doom. 
Nor  has  she  to  endure  the  agony  of  a  long  suspense. 
Her  fate,  which  seems  to  tremble  in  the  balance,  is  soon 
determined.  No  sooner  does  the  monarch  catch  sight 
of  the  beautiful  woman,  and  brave  and  good  as  beautiful, 
whom  he  had  raised  from  slavery  to  share  his  bed  and 
throne,  than  her  apprehensions  vanish.  The  clouds 
break  ;  and  she  finds,  as  we  often  do  with  Christ,  that 
her  fears  have  wronged  her  lord.  Instantly  his  hand 
stretches  out  the  golden  sceptre  ;  the  business  of  the 
court  is  stopped  ;  the  queen,  the  queen !  divides  the 
crowd  of  nobles ;  and  up  that  brilliant  lane  she  walks  in 
majesty  and  in  charms  that  outvie  her  gems,  to  hear 
the  blessed  words.  What  wilt  thou,  Queen  Esther? 
and  what  is  thy  request  ?  it  shall  be  even  given  thee  to 
the  half  of  the  kingdom. 

What  wilt  thou.  Queen  Esther  ?  is  but  an  echo  of 
the  voice  which  faith  catches  from  the  lips  of  Jesus  ; 
and  the  whole  scene  presents  but  a  dim  imperfect  image 
of  that  which  heaven  presents  when  the  gate  rolls  open, 
and  angels  and  archangels  making  way  for  him,  a 
believer  enters  with  his  petitions.  Was  that  beautiful 
woman  once  a  slave  ?     So  was  he.     In  her  royal  mar- 

^  2 


354  THE  FULNESS. 


riage  was  lowliness  allied  to  majesty  ?  So  it  is  in  his 
union  b}^  faith  with  Jesus  Christ.  And  as  to  her  royal 
apparel,  the  diadem,  the  cloth  of  gold  bedecked  with 
sparkling  gems,  in  which  her  maids  have  attired  their 
mistress,  why,  in  the  righteousness  that  clothes,  and 
the  graces  of  the  Sph'it  that  adorn  him,  the  believer 
wears  a  robe,  which  wins  the  admiration,  not  of  men's, 
but  angels'  eyes,  and  shines  even  amid  the  glories  of 
a  city  whose  gates  are  made  of  pearls,  and  whose  streets 
are  paved  with  gold.  To  the  half  of  his  kingdom,  the 
Persian  promised  whatever  his  queen  might  ask;  and 
generous,  right  royal  as  was  his  offer,  it  helps  us  by  its 
very  meanness,  as  a  molehill  at  the  foot  of  a  moun- 
tain, as  a  taper's  feeble  yellow  flame  held  up  against 
the  blazing  sun,  to  form  some  estimate  of  the  bound- 
less grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Half  his  kingdom  ! 
He  offers  nothing  by  halves.  His  promise  is  illimitable. 
All  mine  is  thine.  Confining  his  generosity  neither 
to  kingdoms,  nor  continents,  nor  worlds,  nor  heaven 
itself,  he  lays  the  whole  universe  at  a  poor  sinner's 
feet.  Away  then  with  fears  and  cares !  There  is  nothing 
we  need  that  we  shall  not  get,  nothing  we  can  ask  that 
we  shall  not  receive.  It  pleased  the  Father  that  in 
him  should  all  fulness  dwelL  Transferring  divine 
wealth,  if  I  may  so  speak,  to  our  account  in  the  bank  of 
heaven,  and  giving  us  an  unlimited  credit  there,  Jesus 
says,  All  things,  whatsoever  ye  ask  in  prayer  believing, 
ye  shall  receive. 

In  regard  to  Christ's  fulness,  I  remark — 


THE  FULNESS.  355 


].  That  there  is  all  fulness  of  mercy  to  pardon  in 
him. 

Dead  flies  cause  the  ointment  of  the  apothecary 
to  send  forth  a  stinking  savom-,  so,  says  Solomon, 
doth  a  little  folly  him  that  is  in  reputation  for  wisdom 
and  honour.  Such  great  mischief  can  little  things  do. 
One  small  leak  will  sink  the  biggest  ship  that  ever  sailed 
the  ocean  ;  one  bad  link  in  the  chain  she  rides  by,  and 
parting  from  her  anchor,  she  is  hurled  on  the  horrid  reef 
or  driven  before  the  fury  of  the  tempest ;  and  even  one 
little  wedge  left  carelessly  on  the  slips  arrests  her  progress 
when  the  signal  is  given,  and  eager  crowds  are  waiting 
to  cheer  the  launch,  and  the  bosom  of  the  sea  is  swell- 
ing to  receive  her  into  its  arms.  And  had  there  been 
the  smallest  doubt  expressed  in  the  Bible  about  the  ful- 
ness of  pardoning  mercy,  had  it  not  been  made  clear  as 
noon-day  that  the  blood  of  Christ  cleanseth  from  all 
sin,  from  sins  as  well  of  the  deepest  as  of  the  lightest 
dye,  what  a  stumbling-block  would  that  have  been  !  1 
believe  that  it  would  have  arrested  the  steps  of  thousands 
now  happy  in  Christ,  or  now  safe  in  heaven,  as  they 
went  to  throw  themselves  at  his  feet  and  cry,  Lord,  save 
us,  we  perish. 

But  there  is  no  such  doubt.  A  herald  of  the  cross, 
I  stand  here  in  my  master's  name  to  proclaim  a  univer- 
sal amnesty.  When  the  last  gun  is  fired,  and  pardon  is 
proclaimed  in  reconquered  provinces,  is  it  not  always 
marked  by  some  notable  exceptions  ?  When  the  sword 
of  war  is  sheathed,  the  sword  of  justice  is  drawn,  only 
to  be  returned  to  the  scabbard  after  it  is  filled  with  blood. 


356  THE  FULNESS. 


Men  say  that  they  need  not  look  for  mercy  in  the  hour 
of  retribution,  who  wreaked  ruthless  vengeance  on  help- 
less women,  nor  had  pity  on  sweet  tender  babes.  But 
from  the  pardon  of  redeeming  mercy  there  are  none 
excepted,  unless  those,  who,  by  refusing  to  accept  it, 
except  themselves.  Are  you  unjust?  Christ  Jesus 
died,  the  just  for  the  unjust.  Are  you  sinners?  He 
came  not  to  call  the  righteous,  but  sinners  to  repentance. 
Ave  you  the  vilest  of  the  vile  ?  He  never  lifted  his  foot, 
when  he  was  on  this  earth,  to  spurn  the  guiltiest  away. 
He  pitied  whom  others  spurned  ;  he  received  whom 
others  rejected ;  he  loved  whom  others  loathed.  Let 
the  vilest,  meanest,  most  wretched  outcasts,  know  that 
they  have  a  friend  in  him.  A  mother's  door  may  be 
shut  against  them,  but  not  his.  It  was  his  glory  then, 
and  it  is  his  glory  still,  to  be  reproached  as  the  friend 
of  sinners.  He  faced  contumely  to  save  them ;  he 
endured  death  to  save  them.  And  be  you  groaning 
under  a  load  of  cares  or  guilt,  of  sins  or  sorrows,  kind 
and  gracious  Lord  !  he  says.  Come  unto  me  all  ye  that 
labour  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  T  will  give  you  rest. 

John,  the  disciple  whom  Jesus  loved,  "  which  also 
leaned  on  his  breast  at  supper,"  and  lingered  by  his 
cross,  and  was  entrusted  with  the  care  of  his  mother, 
and  more  than  any  of  the  others  enjoyed  his  master's 
intimacy  and  knew  his  mind,  says,  not  as  one  who 
balances  his  language,  and  carefully  selects  his  words, 
lest  he  should  compromise  and  commit  his  master  too 
far,  "  If  any  man  sin,  we  have  an  advocate  with  the  Fa- 
ther, Jesus  Christ,  the  righteous :"  adding,  "  and  he  is 


THE  FULNESS.  357 


the  propitiatiou  for  our  sins ;  and  not  for  ours  only,  but 
also  for  the  sins  of  the  whole  world."  The  whole  world  ! 
ah !  some  would  say,  that  is  dangerous  language.  It  is 
God's  language.  It  binds  a  zone  of  mercy  around  the 
world,  and  perish  the  hand  that  would  narrow  it  by  a 
hair's-breadth.  Beneath  his  grace  in  Christ,  as  beneath 
that  ample  sky,  there  is  room  enough  for  all  the  men  and 
women  in  the  wide  world.  None  shall  be  damned  but 
they  who  damn  themselves.  What  were  it  but  to  make 
God  a  liar,  should  we  doubt  that  our  sins  can  be  par- 
doned, ay,  and  shall  be  pardoned,  if  we  seek  their  forgive- 
ness ?  Within  its  widest  shores  the  vast  ocean  has  its 
bounds,  and  so  has  the  far-travelling  sun  within  his  orbit ; 
but  this  pardon  is  confined  within  no  limits  of  time,  or 
age,  or  guilt,  or  class,  or  character,  and  is  clogged  with 
no  conditions  but  that  you  accept  it. 

One  might  fancy  that  now^  all  are  certain  to  be  saved. 
Who  will  not  accept  of  it  ?  Offer  a  starving  man  bread, 
he  will  take  it ;  offer  a  poor  man  money,  he  will  take  it ; 
offer  a  sick  man  health,  he  will  take  it ;  offer  an  ambitious 
man  honour,  he  will  take  it ;  offer  a  life-boat  in  the  wreck, 
a  pardon  at  the  gallows,  oh !  how  gladly  he  will  take 
them.  Salvation,  which  is  the  one  thing  needful,  is  the 
only  thing  man  will  not  accept.  He  will  stoop  to  pick 
up  a  piece  of  gold  out  of  the  mire,  but  he  will  not  rise 
out  of  the  mire  to  receive  a  crown  from  heaven.  What 
folly !  What  infatuation !  May  God  by  his  Spirit 
empty  our  hearts  of  pride,  and  take  away  the  evil  heart 
of  unbelief!  Vain  here  is  the  help  of  man.  Arise,  0 
Lord,  and  plead  the  cause  that  is  thine  own.     Break 


358  THE  FULNESS. 


the  spell  of  sin,  and  help  us  to  say  with  the  man  of  old, 
Lord,  I  believe,  help  thou  mine  unbelief! 

2.  There  is  all  fulness  of  grace  to  sanctifj'^  in  Christ. 

"  My  leanness !  my  leanness !"  is  a  lamentation 
which  God's  people,  as  well  as  the  old  prophet,  have 
often  used  in  mourning  over  their  spiritual  condition. 
It  may  be  very  low,  very  sad ;  presenting  the  contrast 
of  a  soul  famished,  and  a  body  luxuriously  fed ;  increase 
of  earthly,  but  a  diminution  of  sacred  joys ;  at  the 
year's  end  more  money  in  the  bank,  but  less  grace  in 
the  heart ;  the  tide  of  worldly  fame  flowing,  and  th 
tide  of  God's  favour  ebbing ;  gardens,  and  orchards,  and 
woodlands,  and  the  fields  of  nature,  green,  gay,  and 
beautiful,  but  barrenness  of  soul  within ;  graces  wither- 
ing, prayers  dull,  faith  weak,  love  cold,  desires  feeble, 
spiritual  appetite  failing;  much  to  alarm  the  saint,  and 
send  him  to  his  knees  crying.  My  soul  cleaveth  to  the 
dust,  quicken  thou  me  according  to  thy  word. 

But  why  is  it,  why  should  it  be  so  ?  Why  burns  the 
virgins'  lamp  with  such  a  flickering  flame  ?  Why  runs  the 
stream  of  grace  so  small,  shrunk  to  the  size  of  a  summer 
brook  ?  Why  are  the  best  of  us  no  better,  no  holier,  no 
happier,  than  we  are  ?  Hath  God  forgotten  to  be 
gracious?  hath  he  in  anger  shut  up  his  tender  mer- 
cies? No.  The  supplies  are  not  exhausted,  nor  is 
the  fountain  empty;  nor  is  our  Father  fallen  into 
poverty,  that  his  children  are  so  scantily  supplied,  and 
have  to  go  about  meanly  begging  a  share  of  the  world's 
enjoyments.  It  is  easy  to  know  why  many  poor  chil- 
dren in  this  city  come  to  have  misery  stamped  on  their 


THE  FULNESS.  359 


young  faces,  and  look  as  if  they  had  never  smiled  in  this 
world,  nor  found  this  world  smiling  on  them ;  a  tyrant 
rules  at  home,  harsh,  stern,  cruel,  forbidding.  Hapless 
creatures,  they  wander  shoeless  and  shivering  on  our 
frosty  streets,  and  with  hunger  in  their  hollow  cheeks, 
and  beggary  hung  on  their  backs,  they  hold  out  their 
skinny  hands  for  charity ;  their  father  is  poor,  or  dead,  or, 
worse  than  dead,  the  base  slave  of  a  most  damning  vice, 
a  drunkard,  from  whose  imperious  voice  they  fly,  whose 
reeling  step  they  tremble  to  hear.  But  what  have  God's 
children  to  do  with  unhappy  looks  ? 

God  is  love.  Fury  is  not  in  me,  saith  the  Lord. 
With  him  is  fulness  of  joy  and  pleasures  for  evermore, 
What  do  you  wish  or  want  ?  Go  tell  it  to  your  Father 
They  that  seek  the  Lord  shall  not  want  any  good  thing. 
Can  he  who  justified  not  sanctify  ?  Can  he  who  enlisted 
us  under  his  holy  banner  not  provide  munitions  of  war 
enough  to  secure,  though  there  may  be  a  hard  fight  for 
it,  the  final  victory?  Can  he  who  led  the  march  out  of 
Egypt  not  beat  down  our  foes,  and  conduct  our  triumph- 
ant way  through  a  thousand  dangers  and  over  a  thousand 
difficulties  on  to  the  promised  land  ?  Oh,  yes  ;  there  is 
all  efiSciency  and  sufficiency  in  Jesus  Christ  to  crown  the 
work  of  grace,  and  to  complete  what  he  has  begun.  There 
is  his  Holy  Spirit  to  sanctify  you ;  there  are  stores  of 
grace  which,  like  the  widow's  barrel  that  grew  no 
emptier  for  all  the  meals  it  furnished,  will  appear  the 
fuller  the  more  you  draw  on  them.  As  with  an  arch,  the 
grace  of  God  stands  the  firmer,  the  more  weight  you  lay 
on  it ;  its  sufficiency,  at  least,  will  be  the  more  evident ; 


360  THE  FULNESS. 


the  more  clearly  you  will  see  the  truth  of  the  promise, 
My  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee.  With  the  well  ever  full 
and  ever  flowing,  our  vessels  need  never  be  empty. 
Whether,  therefore,  you  want  more  faith,  more  purity 
of  heart  or  peace  of  mind,  more  light  or  love,  a  humbler 
or  a  holier  spirit,  a  calmer  or  a  tenderer  conscience,  a 
livelier  sense  of  Christ's  excellences  or  of  your  own 
unworthiness,  more  tears  for  Christ's  feet  or  more  honours 
for  his  head,  fear  not  to  draw,  to  hope,  to  ask,  too  much. 
No  earthly  fortune  will  stand  daily  visits  to  the  bank, 
but  this  will.  You  may  ask  too  little,  you  cannot  ask  too 
much;  you  may  go  too  seldom,  you  cannot  go  too 
often,  to  the  throne  ;  for  in  Jesus  dwelleth  all  the 
fulness  of  the  Godhead  bodily. 

III.  There  is  a  constant  supply  of  pardoning  and  sanc- 
tifying grace  in  Christ. 

It  pleased  the  Father  that  in  him  should  all  fulness 
dwell ;  dwell,  not  come  and  go,  like  a  wayfaring  man 
who  tarrieth  but  a  night,  who  is  with  us  to-day,  and 
away  to-morrow ;  not  like  the  shallow,  noisy,  treacher- 
ous brook  that  fails,  when  most  needed,  in  heat  of 
summer,  but  like  this  deep-seated  spring,  that  rising 
silently  though  affluently  at  the  mountain's  foot,  and 
having  unseen  communication  with  its  exhaustless  sup- 
plies, is  ever  flowing  over  its  grassy  margin,  equally  un- 
affected by  the  long  droughts  that  dry  the  wells,  and  the 
frosts  that  pave  the  neighbouring  lake  with  ice.  So  fail 
the  joys  of  earth  ;  so  flow,  supplied  by  the  fulness  that  is 


THE  FULNESS.  361 


in  Christ,  the  pleasures  and  the  peace  of  piety.  It  can- 
not be  otherwise.  If  a  man  love  me,  says  Jesus,  he 
will  keep  my  words  ;  and  my  Father  will  love  him,  and 
we  will  come  unto  him,  and  make  our  abode  with  him. 

I  have  read  how,  in  the  burning  desert,  the  skeletons 
of  unhappy  travellers,  all  withered  and  white,  are  found, 
not  only  on  the  way  to  the  fountain,  but  lying  grim 
and  ghastly  on  its  banks,  with  their  skulls  stretched 
over  its  very  margin.  Panting,  faint,  their  tongue 
cleaving  to  the  roof  of  their  mouth,  ready  to  fill  a 
cup  with  gold  for  its  fill  of  water,  they  press  on  to 
the  well,  steering  their  course  by  the  tall  palms  that 
stand  full  of  hope  above  the  glaring  sands.  Already, 
in  foil  a  anticipation,  they  drink  where  others  had  been 
saved.  They  reach  it.  Alas !  sad  sight  for  the  dim 
eyes  of  fainting  men,  the  well  is  dry.  With  stony 
horror  in  their  looks,  how  they  gaze  into  the  empty 
basin,  or  fight  with  man  and  beast  for  some  muddy 
drops  that  but  exasperate  their  thirst.  The  desert 
reels  around  them.  Hope  expires.  Some  cursing, 
some  praying,  they  sink,  and  themselves  expire.  And 
by  and  by  the  sky  darkens,  lightnings  flash,  loud 
thunders  roll,  the  rain  pours  down,  and,  fed  by  the 
showers,  the  treacherous  w^aters  rise  to  play  in  mockery 
with  long  fair  tresses,  and  kiss  the  pale  lips  of  death. 

But  yonder,  where  the  cross  stands  up  high  to  mark 
the  fountain  of  the  Saviour's  blood,  and  heaven's  sanctify- 
ing grace,  no  dead  souls  lie.  Once  a  Golgotha,  Calvary 
has  ceased  to  be  a  place  of  skulls.  Where  men  went  once 
to  die,  they  go  now  to  live  ;   and  to  none  that  ever  went 

R 


362  THE  FULNESS. 


there  to  seek  pardon,  and  peace,  and  holiness,  did  God 
ever  say,  Seek  ye  me  in  vain.  There  are  times  when 
the  peace  of  God's  people,  always  like  a  river,  is  like 
one  in  flood,  overflowing  its  margin,  and  rolling  its 
mighty  current  between  bank  and  brae.  There  are 
times  when  the  righteousness  of  God's  people,  always 
like  the  waves  of  the  sea,  seems  like  the  tide  at  the 
stream,  as,  swelling  beyond  its  ordinary  bounds,  it  floats 
the  boats  and  ships  that  lie  highest,  driest  on  the  beach. 
But  at  all  times  and  seasons,  faith  and  prayer  find  fulness 
of  mercy  to  pardon,  and  of  grace  to  sanctify,  in  Jesus 
Christ.     The  supply  is  inexhaustible. 

Mountains  have  been  exhausted  of  their  gold,  mines 
of  their  diamonds,  and  the  depths  of  ocean  of  their 
pearly  gems.  The  demand  has  emptied  the  supply. 
Over  once  busy  scenes,  silence  and  solitude  now  reign  ; 
the  caverns  ring  no  longer  to  the  miner's  hammer,  noi 
IS  the  song  of  the  pearl-fisher  heard  upon  the  deep. 
But  the  riches  of  grace  are  inexhaustible.  All  that 
have  gone  before  us  have  not  made  them  less,  and  we 
shall  make  them  no  less  to  those  who  follow  us.  When 
they  have  supplied  the  wants  of  unborn  millions,  the 
last  of  Adam's  race,  that  lonely  man,  over  whose  head 
the  Sim  is  dying,  beneath  whose  feet  the  earth  is  reeling, 
shall  stand  by  as  full  a  fountain  as  this  day  invites  you 
to  drink  and  live,  to  wash  and  be  clean. 

I  have  found  it  an  interesting  thing  to  stand  on 
the  edge  of  a  noble  rolling  river,  and  to  think,  that 
although  it  has  been  flowing  on  for  six  thousand  years, 
watering  the  fields,  and  slaking  the  thirst  of  a  hundred 


THE  FULNESS.  363 


generations,  it  shows  no  sign  of  waste  or  want ;  and  when 
I  have  watched  the  rise  of  the  sun,  as  he  shot  above  the 
crest  of  the  mountain,  or  in  a  sky  draped  with  golden 
curtains,  sprang  up  from  his  ocean  bed,  I  have  wondered 
to  think  that  he  has  melted  the  snows  of  so  many  win- 
ters, and  renewed  the  verdure  of  so  many  springs,  and 
painted  the  flowers  of  so  many  summers,  and  ripened 
the  golden  harvests  of  so  many  autumns,  and  yet  shines 
as  brilliant  as  ever,  his  eye  not  dim,  nor  his  natural 
strength  abated,  nor  his  floods  of  light  less  full  for  cen- 
turies of  boundless  profusion.  Yet  what  are  these  but 
images  of  the  fulness  that  is  in  Christ  ?  Let  that  feed 
your  hopes,  and  cheer  your  hearts,  and  brighten  your 
faith,  and  send  you  away  this  day  happy  and  rejoicing. 
For,  when  judgment  flames  have  licked  up  that  flowing 
stream,  and  the  light  of  that  glorious  sun  shall  be 
quenched  in  darkness  or  veiled  in  the  smoke  of  a  burn- 
ing world,  the  fulness  that  is  in  Christ  shall  flow 
on  throughout  eternity  in  the  bliss  of  the  redeemed. 
Blessed  Saviour,  Image  of  God,  divine  Redeemer !  in 
thy  presence  is  fulness  of  joy ;  at  thy  right  hand  there 
are  pleasures  for  evermore.  What  thou  hast  gone  to 
heaven  to  prepare,  may  we  be  called  up  at  death  to 
enjoy ! 


THE  RECONCILER. 

And,  having  made  peace  through  the  blood  of  his  cross,  by  him  to 
reconcile  all  things  unto  himself. — Colossians  i.  20. 

n^HE  salutations  that  pass  between  man  and  man 
differ  in  different  countries.  Boaz,  for  example, 
goes  out  to  see  his  reapers.  The  field  is  flashing  with 
sickles  ;  the  tall  corn  is  falling  to  the  sweep  of  young 
men's  arms,  and  to  maidens'  songs  ;  and  gleaning  on  be- 
hind them  come  widows,  and  orphans,  and  little  children, 
all  made  welcome  to  share  the  bounties  of  providence 
and  the  fulness  of  a  good  man's  cup.  A  busy,  joyous, 
crowded  harvest-field,  where  brown  labour  plies  her 
healthful  task  in  a  bright  autumn  day,  is  one  of  the  most 
pleasant  scenes  a  man  can  look  on  ;  though  now-a-days 
we  not  only  miss  the  gleaners,  but  also  that  kindly,  pious 
intercourse  between  master  and  servants  which  lent  a 
peculiar  charm  to  Bethlehem's  harvests.  Boaz  moves 
on  from  band  to  band,  and,  as  each  stops  to  do  him 
reverence,  he  says,  The  Lord  be  with  you,  and,  meet 
reply  to  such  pious  and  courteous  language,  they  answer, 
The  Lord  bless  thee.  Without  undervaluing  the  pro- 
gress which  the  world  has  made  since  then,  in  arts  and 
science,  in  wealth  and  the  more  general  diffusion  of  the 


THE  RECONCILER.  365 

pleasures  and  comforts  of  life,  surely  it  has  not  been  all 
gain.  It  is  difficult  to  look  back  without  some  regret 
on  those  happy  days  when  children  played,  and  no  ragged 
orphans  pined,  in  the  streets,  when  manners  were  simple, 
and  people  were  guileless,  and  the  rich  were  kind  to 
the  poor,  and  the  poor  did  not  scowl  upon  the  rich,  and 
nobody  was  trodden  on  or  neglected,  and  no  wide  yawn- 
ing gulf  separated  the  highest  from  the  lowest  classes 
of  the  community. 

The  ordinary  salutation  of  the  East,  however,  was 
one  of  peace.  It  is  so  still.  Seated  on  his  fiery  steed 
and  armed  to  the  teeth,  the  Bedouin  careers  along  the 
desert.  Catching,  away  in  the  haze  of  the  burning 
sands,  a  form  similarly  mounted  and  similarly  armed 
approaching  him,  he  is  instantly  on  the  alert ;  for  life 
is  a  precarious  possession  among  these  wild  sons  of  free- 
dom. His  long  spear  drops  to  the  level ;  and  grasping 
it  in  his  sinewy  hand  he  presses  forward,  till  the  black 
eyes  that  glance  out  from  the  folds  of  his  shawl  recog- 
nise in  the  stranger  one  of  a  friendly  tribe,  between 
whom  and  him  there  is  no  quarrel,  no  question  of  blood 
to  settle.  So,  for  the  sun  is  hot,  and  it  is  far  to  their 
tents,  like  two  ships  in  mid-ocean,  they  pass ;  they  pull 
no  rein,  but  sweep  on,  with  a  "  Salem  Aleikum,"  Peace 
be  unto  you.  Like  their  flowing  attire,  the  black  tents 
of  Kedar,  the  torch  procession  at  their  marriages,  this 
salutation  is  one  of  the  many  stereotyped  habits  of  the 
East.  Throughout  the  Holy  Land  and  the  neighbour- 
ing countries,  the  modern  traveller  hears  the  old  saluta- 
tion, fresh  and  unchanged,  as  if  it  were  but  yesterday 


366  THE  RECONCILER. 


that  David  was  a  fugitive  in  the  wilderness  of  Paran, 
and  sent  this  message  to  that  rude,  surly,  niggard  churl, 
with  whom  Abigail,  "  a  woman  of  good  understanding, 
and  of  a  beautiful  countenance,"  was  unhappily  mated. 
Peace  be  both  to  thee,  and  peace  be  to  thine  house, 
and  peace  be  unto  all  that  thou  hast. 

Beautiful  as  this  custom  is,  like  the  fragrant  wall- 
flower that  springs  from  the  mouldering  ruin  it  adorns, 
it  sprung  from  an  unhappy  condition  of  society.  Why 
peace?  Because  frequent  wars,  sudden  irruptions  of  hos- 
tile tribes,  made  the  people  of  these  lands  sigh  for  peace. 
Hence  their  habit  of  expressing  their  kindly  feelings  to 
each  other  in  the  wish  that  they  might  have  peace ;  a 
blessing  which  many  had  not,  and  which  they  who  had 
might  not  long  enjoy.  War  does  not  take  us  unawares. 
We  see  the  black  storm-cloud  gathering  before  it  bursts  ; 
and  by  prudent  policy  we  may  avert  it,  or,  if  it  be  in- 
evitable, prepare  bravely  to  meet  it.  But  this  curse  of 
humanity,  this  dreadful  scourge  fell  on  the  villages  and 
cities  of  these  countries  with  the  suddenness  of  the  sea- 
squall  that  strikes  the  ship,  and,  ere  time  is  found  to  reef 
a  sail  or  lower  a  boat,  throws  her  on  her  beam-ends,  and 
sends  her,  crew  and  cargo,  foundering  into  the  deep. 
Look  at  the  case  of  Job ;  camels,  cattle,  sheep,  and 
servants  gone,  he  is  reduced  in  one  short  day  from  afflu- 
ence to  the  most  abject  poverty.  One  morning  the  sun 
rises  in  peace  on  Abraham's  tents ;  and  ere  noon  or 
nightfall  they  are  ringing  with  cries  to  the  rescue ;  in 
wild  confusion  children  are  crying,  women  are  weeping, 
and  men  are  arming  ;  there  is  hot  haste  to  mount  and 


THE  1U':C0NCILEK.  367 


away ;  and,  with  two  hundred  retainers  at  his  back, 
Abraham  scours  the  country,  raising  it  as  he  goes,  to 
deUver  Lot  and  his  family  from  the  hand  of  thf^  spoilers. 
Three  days  ago,  David  and  his  followers  left  Ziklag, 
sweet  peace  brooding  over  the  quiet  scene  ;  and  where 
is  Ziklag  on  their  return  ?  They  come  back,  but  not 
to  happy  homes ;  they  are  silent,  a  mass  of  smoking 
ruins  ;  no  wife  hastens  to  embrace  her  husband,  no 
child  runs  to  climb  its  father's  knee  ;  the  red-handed 
spoiler  has  been  there  ;  their  mountain  nest  has  been 
harried  ;  and,  appalled  at  the  desolation,  these  stout- 
hearted men  burst  into  frantic  grief,  weeping  till,  as 
the  Bible  says,  they  can  weep  no  more.  Looking  at 
these  scenes,  it  is  easy  to  understand  how  the  most  kind 
and  common  greeting  in  such  countries  was,  Peace  be 
unto  you." 

Though  the  practice  would  ill  accord  with  our  con- 
ventional manners,  that  have  often  more  of  art  than  of 
nature,  I  think,  considering  the  day,  the  place,  the  pur- 
pose of  the  assembly,  it  were  a  beautiful  and  appro- 
priate thing,  when  ministers  and  people  meet  in  the 
house  of  God,  to  meet  after  the  manner  of  Boaz  and  his 
people ;  the  minister,  on  appearing  in  the  pulpit,  saying 
The  Lord  be  with  you,  and  the  people  responding  The 
Lord  bless  thee.  Our  vine  and  fig-tree  are  good  laws, 
a  free  government,  a  home  around  which  the  sea  throws 
her  protecting  arms,  and  a  stout  people  who  fear  God 
and  honour  the  king.  Thus  preserved  from  the  fears 
of  those  countries,  we  have  not  learned  their  fashions. 
Yet  when  we  ransack  these  sunny  lands  for  gay  flowers 


368  THE  RECONCILER. 


to  adorn  our  gardens,  why  should  we  not  transplant 
some  of  their  beautiful  habits  ?  While  others  introduce 
ofiensive  novelties  into  the  pulpit,  as  if  the  gospel  required 
such  wretched  aids,  he  would  follow  the  footsteps,  and 
give  utterance  to  the  spirit  of  Jesus,  who,  boldly  break- 
ing the  ice  of  our  cold  customs,  should  meet  his  people 
on  the  morning  of  the  blessed  Sabbath  with  his  master's 
salutation,  Peace  be  unto  you. 

With  these  words  our  Lord,  on  returning  from  the 
grave,  accosted  his  disciples.  Nor  on  his  lips  were 
they  mere  words  of  course,  the  ordinary  courtesies  of 
life.  How  well  did  they  suit  the  occasion  !  The  battle 
of  salvation  has  been  fought  out,  and  a  great  victory 
won ;  and  in  that  salutation  Jesus,  his  own  herald, 
announces  the  news  to  an  anxious  church.  Passing  into 
that  upper  room  which  holds  it,  passing  through  the 
barred  and  bolted  door  which  protects  it,  he  suddenly 
appears  among  them.  He  has  fulfilled  the  anthem  with 
which  angels  sang  his  advent,  and  ushered  him  into 
this  distracted,  guilty  world.  Though  he  had  to  recal 
her  from  heaven,  where  she  had  fled  in  alarm  at  the  Fall, 
or,  rather,  had  to  seek  her  in  the  gloomy  retreats  of 
death,  he  brings  back  sweet  holy  Peace  to  earth.  xA.nd 
hastening  to  tell  them  the  good  news,  the  glad  tidings 
of  great  joy,  he  proclaims  it  in  the  words,  Peace  be  unto 
you.  He  shows  them  his  hands,  with  the  nail-marks 
there ;  he  uncovers  his  side  with  the  spear-scar  there ; 
and  when  the  disciples  are  gazing  through  streaming 
eyes  on  these  affecting  love-tokens,  his  heart  swells, 
fills,  overflows  with  tenderness,  and,  as  if  he  could  never 


THE  RECONCILER.  369 


tire  of  saying  it,  nor  they  of  hearing  it,  he  bends  over 
them  to  say  again  and  again,  Peace  be  unto  you. 

Suppose  that,  instead  of  descending,  like  dews,  in 
those  gracious  but  silent  and  unseen  influences  of  the 
Spirit,  that  people  should  pray  for  and  preachers  should 
trust  to,  our  Lord  were  to  come  in  person,  appear  in  a 
visible  form,  and  reveal  his  glory  to  every  eye,  how  would 
he  address  us  ?  I  believe  that  he  would  bring  from 
heaven  the  very  salutation  which  he  brought  from  the 
grave.  As  he  looked  around  on  those  he  had  purchased 
with  his  blood,  and  renewed  by  his  grace,  I  can  fancy 
him  breaking  the  deep  silence,  and  stilling  the  heart- 
throbbings,  and  dissipating  the  sudden  terrors  which 
such  a  vision  might  produce,  with  the  old  gracious 
words,  Peace  be  unto  you.  And  what  a  load  would 
that  take  off  some  hearts;  what  a  calm,  like  his  voice 
on  Gahlee,  would  it  impart  to  some  troubled  minds ; 
what  a  gracious  answer  would  it  bring  to  some  earnest 
prayers !  To  hear  his  own  voice,  however,  to  behold 
his  blessed  face,  to  be  assured  of  forgiveness  from  his 
own  lips,  these  are  joys  reserved  for  heaven.  Yet  with 
strong,  though  childlike  faith  in  exercise,  the  next  best 
thing  is  to  be  assured,  as  we  are  assured  in  my  text, 
that  peace  has  been  made,  and  that  God,  for  the 
purpose  of  reconciling  us  to  himself,  has  made  it  through 
the  blood  of  Christ's  cross. 


370  THE  RECONCILEK. 


I.  The  text  implies  that  by  nature  man  is  at  enmity 
with  God. 

So  says  the  apostle  Paul.  Nor  is  it  possible  to  lay 
down  that  doctrine  more  clearly  or  more  strongly  than 
he  does  in  these  remarkable  words,  "  The  carnal  mind 
is  enmity  against  God."  He  does  not  say  that  it  is  in  a 
state  of  enmity.  Not  at  all ;  for  states  and  frames  may 
undergo  change,  and  are  variable  as  wind  or  weather. 
As  God  is  love,  so  the  carnal  mind  is  enmity;  this 
being  so  much  the  nature,  essence,  element  of  its 
existence,  that  if  you  took  away  the  enmity,  it  would 
cease  to  be  ;  enmity  being  the  breath  of  its  life,  the 
very  marrow  of  its  bones.  From  such  a  view  of  the 
heart,  from  so  hideous  a  picture  some  start  back  ;  they 
hesitate  to  believe  it,  while  others  plainly,  indignantly 
deny  it.  Pointing  us  to  a  beautiful,  sweet,  angel-like 
child,  as,  with  open  brow  and  unclouded  face,  it  bends  at 
a  mother's  knee,  and,  lifting  its  little  hands  to  heaven, 
repeats  from  her  gentle  lips  its  evening  prayer,  they 
ask  who  can  fancy  that  creature  to  be  enmity  against 
God  ?  True.  But  who  would  fancy,  as  it  twines  its 
arms  around  a  mother's  neck,  and  kisses  her,  and  sings 
itself  asleep  on  her  loving  bosom,  that  the  day  can 
ever  come  when  it  will  stab  that  bosom,  and  these 
little  hands  will  plant  wrongs  sharper  than  a  dagger 
in  her  bleeding  heart?  Yet  that  happens.  And 
many  things  else  happen  that  you  would  never  fancy. 
The  purple  bolls  of  the  nightshade  change  into  poisonous 


THE  RECONCILER.  371 


berries ;  the  cold,  dull  flint  sends  out  sparks  of  burning 
fire  ;  the  viper  that  lay  quiet  in  the  "  bundle  of  sticks  " 
is  aroused  by  the  heat,  and  leaps  from  the  flames  to 
fasten  on  an  apostle's  hand. 

Sins,  like  seeds,  lie  dormant  till  circumstances  call 
them  into  active  existence.  Aware  of  that,  Satan  knew 
right  well  what  he  was  saying  when,  in  reply  to  God's 
praise  of  his  servant  Job,  he  said  with  a  sneer,  "  Doth 
Job  fear  God  for  nought?  Hast  thou  not  made  an 
hedge  about  him,  and  about  his  house,  and  about  all 
that  he  hath  on  every  side  ?  thou  hast  blessed  the  work 
of  his  hands,  and  his  substance  is  increased  in  the  land. 
But  put  forth  thine  hand  now,  and  touch  all  that  he 
hath,  and  he  will  curse  thee  to  thy  face."  And  so 
the  good  man  had  done,  but  for  restraining  grace. 
What  a  burst  of  pent-up  passion,  like  the  fiery  eruption 
of  a  volcano,  breaks  the  seven  days'  awful  silence,  "  Let 
the  day  perish  wherein  I  was  born,  and  the  night  in 
which  it  was  said.  There  is  a  man  child  conceived ;  let 
that  day  be  darkness.  Why  died  I  not  from  the 
womb?  Why  did  the  knees  prevent  me?  Wherefore 
is  light  given  to  him  that  is  in  misery,  and  life  unto 
the  bitter  in  soul ;  which  long  for  death,  but  it  cometh 
not ;  and  dig  for  it  more  than  for  hid  treasures ;  which 
rejoice  exceedingly  and  are  glad  when  they  can  find  the 
grave  ?"  Here  Job  curses  the  day  that  he  was  born  ; 
and  he  who  curses  God's  providence  has  to  take  but 
another  step,  and  he  curses  God  himself.  But  that  a 
divine  arm  had  borne  his  burden,  but  that  a  divine 
hand  curbed  his  passions,  that  woman,  raging  like  a  bear 


372  THE  RECONCILER. 


bereaved  of  her  whelps,  would  have  had  no  occasion  to 
reproach  him  for  his  tame  submission.  No.  He  had 
vented  curses,  if  not  as  loud,  perhaps,  like  the  river 
where  it  flows  sullen  and  black,  more  deep  than  hers ; 
and,  standing  side  by  side  over  a  grave  big  with  bodies 
and  with  griefs,  they  had  raised  their  hands  together 
against  the  heavens,  and  flung  back  their  life  at  him  who 
had  embittered  it.  But  for  the  grace  of  God  Job  had  been 
no  pattern  of  patience.  And  let  the  grace,  which  both 
sustained  and  restrained  him,  be  withdrawn  from  any  of 
us,  and  our  natural  enmity  and  corruption  would  break 
out  after  such  a  fashion  as  would  astonish  ourselves, 
shock  the  ears  of  the  public,  and  lead  many  to  hold  up 
their  hands  to  exclaim.  Lord,  what  is  man  ! 

This  enmity  is  a  doctrine  into  which  the  believer 
does  not  need  to  be  reasoned.  He  feels  it.  He  reads 
its  evidence  elsewhere  than  in  the  Bible ;  he  reads  it  in 
his  own  heart.  He,  who  knows  himself,  knows  it. 
Breaking  out  hke  old  sores,  the  sins  of  heart,  and  speech, 
and  conduct,  by  which  it  makes  itself  manifest,  are  his 
daily  pain,  and  fear,  and  grief.  Other  soldiers  have 
easy  times  of  peace,  when  swords  rust  idly  in  their 
sheaths,  and  the  trumpet  sounds  but  for  parade.  Not  he. 
There  is  never  a  day  but  he  has  to  fight  this  enmity 
to  the  holy  will  and  sovereign  ways  of  God.  His  life  is 
a  long  battle  and  a  hard  battle ;  and,  like  a  soldier  tired 
of  war,  though  true  to  his  colours,  he  often  wishes  that 
it  were  over,  as,  overcome  of  evil,  and  vexed  with  him- 
self, he  throws  himself  on  his  knees  to  cry.  Create  in  me 
a  clean  heart,  0  God,  and  renew  a  right  spirit  within 


THE  RECONCILER.  373 


me,  Be  merciful  unto  me,  0  God,  be  merciful  unto  me, 
Purge  me  with  hyssop,  and  I  shall  be  clean  ;  wash  me, 
and  I  shall  be  whiter  than  snow. 

This  enmity  is  a  thing,  whose  existence  is  taken 
for  granted  in  the  language  of  my  text ;  for  what  need 
can  there  be  to  make  peace  between  God  and  man  if 
they  are  friends  already  ?  Does  not  the  making  peace 
between  two  nations  imply  that  they  had  been  standing 
to  each  other  in  the  relation  of  antagonists,  not  of  allies? 
Not  friends  require  to  be  reconciled,  but  foes.  When, 
with  tabard  and  trumpet,  royal  heralds  proclaim  the 
peace,  and  cannon  roar,  and  church-bells  ring,  and  bon- 
fires blaze,  and  bright  illuminations  turn  night  into  day, 
in  that  darkened  house,  where  the  shouts  of  the  crowd 
fall  heavy  on  a  widow's  heart,  who  clasps  her  children  in 
her  arms,  or  where  a  father  and  mother  are  weeping  over 
a  bloody  lock  of  their  soldier  boy's  hair,  they  know  too 
well  that  war  went  before  the  peace,  a  tempest  of  blood 
and  carnage  before  that  dear-bought  calm.  When, 
therefore,  my  text  says  that  peace  was  made,  it  im- 
plies that,  though  unequal  antagonists,  more  unequally 
matched  than  if  a  presumptuous  worm,  which  I  could 
crush  with  one  stamp  of  my  foot,  should  raise  itself 
up  to  bar  my  path  and  to  contend  with  me,  God  and 
man  stood  face  to  face,  front  to  front,  in  oppo- 
sition the  one  to  the  other.  I  pray  the  sinner  to 
think  of  his  madness  in  contending  with  God.  The 
issue  is  not  doubtful  yonder,  where  the  chafi*  and  the 
whirlwind  meet,  or  the  blast  and  the  autumn  leaves 
meet,  or  the  potsherd  and  the  potter  meet ;  where  the 


374  THE  RECONCILER. 


unmasted,  rudderless  wreck  meets  the  mountain-billow 
that  lifts  her  up,  and  whirls  her  crashing  on  the  reef, 
around  which  next  moment  there  float  but  some  broken 
timbers.  Nor  is  it  doubtful  here.  Throw  down,  I  pray 
you,  the  weapons  of  your  rebellion  ;  down  on  your 
knees ;  yield  yourselves  to  the  love  of  Christ ;  kiss  the 
Son,  lest  he  be  angry,  and  ye  perish  from  the  way ;  for, 
who  has  an  arm  like  God,  or  who  can  thunder  with  a 
voice  like  his  ?  Let  the  potsherd  strive  with  the  pot- 
sherds of  the  earth,  but  woe  to  the  man  that  striveth 
with  his  Maker. 

Animated  by  fierce  despair,  man  would  fight  on, 
and  fight  it  out  to  the  last.  If  God  is  only  set  before 
me  in  the  attitude  and  act  of  cursing,  I  believe  I  should 
curse  back  again.  Such  is  our  nature ;  and  he  is  as 
ignorant  of  philosophy  as  of  the  gospel,  who  expects  to 
conquer  my  enmity  by  the  terrors  of  the  law,  or  by  any 
other  argument  than  the  love  of  God.  But  does  God 
appear  as  reciprocating  our  enmity,  as  the  enemy  of 
man?  No;  not  even  when  he  condemns  him.  To 
suppose  so  were  a  great  mistake,  were  to  do  base 
wrong  to  a  gracious  God.  I  know  that  some  have 
painted  him  in  dark,  and  gloomy,  and  repulsive  colours, 
imputing  to  the  Supreme  Being  their  own  vengeful 
and  malignant  passions ;  but  that  terrible  spectre,  who 
has  a  better  claim  than  Death  to  be  called  the  King  of 
Terrors,  is  not  the  God  of  the  Bible,  is  not  the  Father  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  is  not  He  in  whose  name  I  call 
on  the  sinner  to  come  to  the  throne  of  grace,  and  throw 
himself  with  confidence  at  the  feet  of  mercy.     I  cannot 


THE  UECONCILER.  375 


deny  that  God  condemns,  but  I  deny  that  he  ever  con- 
demns willingly.  He  does  not  hate  the  sinner,  though 
he  hates  his  sins.  He  loves  him ;  he  loves  you.  And 
if  that  judge  is  not  considered  the  enemy  of  the  pale, 
guilty,  trembling  wretch,  on  whose  doomed,  sunken 
head,  with  a  voice  choked  by  emotion,  and  eyes  dropping 
tears  that  leave  no  stain  on  the  judge's  ermine,  reluc- 
tant he  pronounces  the  terrible  sentence  of  death,  is 
God  to  be  considered  the  enemy  even  of  him  whom, 
after  years  of  long  suffering,  he  condemns  to  perdition  ? 
No.  He  has  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  the  wicked. 
The  man  who  is  damned  has  been  his  own  enemy. 
And  should  such,  which  God  forbid,  be  your  awful 
fate,  I  warn  you  that  it  will  be  the  bitterest  thought 
of  hell,  that  God  sought  to  be  reconciled  to  you  and 
you  madly  refused.  Give  me  a  voice  loud  enough  to 
reach  the  ends  of  the  earth,  and  I  would  raise  it  to  pro- 
claim that  God  is  not  willing  that  any  man  in  that  wide 
world  should  perish,  but  that  all  should  come  to  him 
and  live.  Do  men  perish  ?  Hear  the  reason,  Ye  will 
not  come  to  me  that  ye  might  have  life.  Would  you 
be  saved?  listen  to  these  gracious  words.  Him  that 
Icometh  to  me,  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out,  If  any  man 
thirst,  let  him  come  unto  me,  and  drink. 

II.  God  desires  to  be  reconciled  to  his  enemies. 

He  did  me  wrong ;  if  there  are  faults  on  both  sides, 
he  was  the  first  in  the  transgression  ;  therefore,  if  we 
are  to  be  reconciled,  he,  not  I,  must  be  the  first  to  make 


376  THE  RECONCTLEE. 


advances  !  Such,  if  you  ever  undertook  the  too  often 
thankless,  and  sometimes  perilous  office  of  a  mediator 
between  friends  whom  differences  had  estranged,  you 
know  to  be  the  law  which  man  lays  down.  Man  stands 
upon  his  dignity.  He  talks  loftily  of  his  honour,  and 
what  he  calls  justice  to  himself  and  the  interests  of  society. 
The  injured  says  of  the  injurer,  and  each  generally  thinks 
not  himself  but  the  other  such.  He  is  to  come  to  me,  I 
am  not  to  go  to  him.  Indignant  at  the  proposal  of 
anything  that  wounds  his  pride,  he  spurns  it  away, 
asking.  Am  I  to  stand  at  his  door  in  the  humble  atti- 
tude of  a  suppliant,  to  appear  as  if  I  were  the  injurer, 
not  the  injured  ?  You  may  tell  him  that  he  who  con- 
quers himself,  wins  the  victory ;  you  may  tell  him,  that 
he  who  ruleth  his  own  spirit  is  greater  than  he  who 
taketh  a  city  ;  you  may  tell  him  that  it  is  noble  to  make 
the  first  advances.  No,  he  says,  I  will  not  meet  him 
even  halfway;  let  him  come  and  acknowledge  his  offence; 
I  will  not  refuse  my  hand,  but  he  must  ask  it ;  I  am 
willing  to  bury  the  quarrel,  but  he  must  dig  the  grave. 
Strange  terms  for  those  to  insist  on  who  know 
the  grace  of  God,  and  how  our  own  great  debts  are  for- 
given !  If  God  had  so  dealt  with  us,  we  should  have 
gone  to  hell,  every  one  of  us.  Yet  such  are  commonly 
the  lowest,  easiest  terms  on  which  man  agrees  to  treat 
with  man.  And  I  have  known  a  mother  sternly  refuse 
to  grant  a  daughter  the  forgiveness  she  asked  even  on 
her  knees.  Come  with  me  into  that  woman's  cottage 
when  she  has  received  her  summons  to  a  bar,  where 
she  herself,  as  well  as   all  of  us,   will  need  forgive- 


THE  RECONCILER.  377 

ness.  Her  last  hour  is  come;  and  though  in  the 
dim  light  of  a  candle  which  we  hold  to  her  face, 
it  looks  firm  and  stern  even  in  a  dying  hour,  we 
think  surely  she  will  relent  now,  and  afi'ord  some  hope, 
however  faint,  that  the  spirit  that  forgives  goes  to  be 
forgiven.  Putting  kind  neighbours  aside,  I  bend  over 
that  ghastly  form,  and  in  the  awful  presence  of  death,  put 
her  to  the  trial.  There  is  no  relenting.  It  is  no  time 
for  speaking  smooth  things ;  a  soul  is  at  stake  ;  and  in 
half  an  hour  she  will  be  in  hell  or  heaven.  She  has 
been  plainly  told,  that  unless  she  forgives,  she  cannot  be 
forgiven.  Jesus  hanging  for  sinners  on  the  cross,  and 
praying.  Father,  forgive  them,  for  they  know  not  what 
they  do  ;  God  entreating  the  guilty  to  return  to  his 
bosom,  and  stooping  in  love  over  his  bitterest  ene- 
mies, these  are  set  before  her,  but  in  vain.  The 
tree  falls  as  it  leans,  as  well  as  lies  as  it  falls.  God  may 
forgive,  not  she.  And,  when  sent  away,  as  it  were,  by 
a  voice  saying.  She  is  joined  to  her  idols,  let  her 
alone,  I  left  these  horrors,  and  stepping  out  into  the 
calm  night,  raised  my  eyes  to  the  spangled  sky,  how 
pleasant  it  was  to  think  of  the  contrast  between  our 
Father  there  and  that  iron  mother,  and  how  natural 
it  was  to  exclaim  with  David,  Let  me  fall  into  the  hand 
of  the  Lord  ;  for  his  mercies  are  great ;  and  let  me  not 
fall  into  the  hand  of  man.  Many  a  star  studded  the 
night's  dark  vault,  but  I  thought  none  looked  so  bright 
and  beautiful  as  the  blessed  promise.  Can  a  woman  forget 
her  sucking  child,  that  she  should  not  have  compassion 

on  the  son  of  her  womb?     Yea,  they  may  forget,  yet 

r2 


378  THE  RECONCILER. 


will  I  not  forget  thee.  Behold,  I  have  graven  thee 
upon  the  palms  of  my  hands. 

My  ways  are  not  as  your  ways,  neither  are  my 
thoughts  as  your  thoughts,  saith  the  Lord.  How 
strikingly  and  blessedly  is  that  illustrated  in  the  peace 
restored  between  God  and  man  !  Who  is  the  first  to 
seek  reconciliation  here  ?  Does  God  stand  upon  his 
dignity,  his  honour,  the  justice  of  the  case  ?  If  ever 
any  might,  it  was  He.  But  did  the  great  God  sit  aloft  on 
his  imperial  throne,  surrounded  by  holy  angels,  saying, 
Let  these  sinners  come  to  me  ;  the  offence  was  theirs, 
and  the  humiliation  must  be  all  their  own  ?  No.  He 
takes  the  humiliation  to  himself,  and  might  be  supposed 
to  be  the  injurer,  not  the  injured.  Veiling  his  majesty, 
and  leaving  heaven  to  seek  our  door,  he  stands  there, 
knocks  there,  waits  there  ;  nay,  with  an  infinite  kind- 
ness and  condescension,  he  goes  down,  as  it  were,  on 
his  knees,  beseeching  us,  as  if  it  were  a  favour  done 
to  him,  to  be  reconciled.  "  Now  then  we  are  ambas- 
sadors for  Christ,  as  though  God  did  beseech  you  by  us  : 
we  pray  you  in  Christ's  stead,  be  ye  reconciled  to  God." 
How  hard  are  your  hearts,  if  you  can  resist  such  love  ! 

Some  talk  as  if  we  were  saved  just  because  Christ 
paid  our  debt,  representing  God's  share  in  the  transac- 
tion as  little  else  than  that  of  a  severe^  stern,  unrelenting 
creditor,  who  takes  no  interest  in  his  imprisoned  debtor 
beyond  letting  him  out  when  the  surety  has  taken  up  the 
bond.  Is  this  true  ?  Is  it  fair  to  God  ?  True  ?  It  is 
utterly  false.  Salvation  flows  from  a  higher  source  than 
Calvary.     It  has  its  fountain,  not  in  the  cross  of  the 


THE  RECONCILER.  379 


incarnate  Son,  but  in  the  bosom  of  the  eternal  Father. 
These  hoar  hills  with  their  time-furrowed  brows,  that 
ocean  which  bears  on  its  face  no  mark  of  age,  those 
morning  stars  which  sang  together  when  our  world  was 
born,  these  old  heavens,  are  not  so  old  as  the  love  of 
God.  It  dates  from  eternity.  Eternal  ages  before  the 
Law  was  given,  or  broken,  or  satisfied,  he  loved  us.  The 
central  truth  of  the  Bible,  that  on  which  I  lay  the 
greatest  stress  and  rest  my  strongest  hopes,  is  this,  that 
God  does  not  love  us  because  Christ  died  for  us,  but 
that  Christ  died  for  us  because  God  loved  us.  I  do  not 
disparage  the  work  of  Christ;  far  be  such  a  thought 
from  me.  Yet  Christ  himself  is  the  gift  of  divine  love, 
the  divine  expression  of  our  Father's  desire  to  be  re- 
conciled. The  Lord  of  angels  hanging  on  a  mother's 
bosom,  the  Creator  of  heaven  and  earth  bending  to  a 
humble  task,  the  judge  of  all  standing  accused  in  the 
place  of  common  felons,  the  Son  of  his  Father's  love 
nailed  amid  derision  to  an  ignominious  cross,  death 
rudely  seizing  him,  the  dark  grave  receiving  him,  we 
owe  to  the  love  of  God.  God  so  loved  the  world, 
that  he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son,  that  whosoever 
believeth  in  him  should  not  perish,  but  have  everlast- 
ing life.     What  love  do  we  owe  him  who  so  loved  us ! 

IIL   To  make  our  peace  with  God,  Jesus  Christ  laid 
down  his  life. 

I  have  seen  one  who  had  roughly  reckoned  up  the 
cost  of  the  gems,  the  rubies,  pearls,  emeralds,  diamonds, 


380  THE  RECONCILER. 


that  studded  the  golden  arches  of  an  earthly  crown, 
stand  astonished  at  its  value.  And  yet,  in  point  either 
of  cost  or  brilliancy,  what  is  that  to  the  crown  any  ran- 
somed beggar  or  saved  harlot  wears  in  heaven?  Im- 
perial diadems  are  nothing  to  the  crown  of  glory.  In 
the  sanctuary  balances  a  saint  weighs  heavier  than  a 
sovereign.  And  there  is  more  value  in  the  crown  of  a 
redeemed  infant,  one  of  these  little  ones,  than  in  all  the 
glory  of  all  the  holy  angels.  A  word  made  them. 
He  said,  and  it  was  done  ;  heaven  was  full  of  them.  But 
to  make  a  saint,  he  who  never  left  his  throne  to  make  or 
save  an  angel,  descended  on  our  world  in  the  form  of  a 
servant,  and,  more  amazing  still,  hung  dead  on  a  cross  in 
the  form  of  a  sinner.  The  price  of  our  pardon  was  no- 
thing less  than  what  the  apostle  calls  the  blood  of  God. 
He  was  made  sin  for  us  who  knew  no  sin,  that  we  might 
be  made  the  righteousness  of  God  in  him.  To  restore 
peace,  and  open  up  a  way  of  reconciliation,  to  save  us 
from  the  perdition  of  that  bottomless  pit,  Jesus  took 
our  sins  upon  him,  and  poured  out  his  soul  unto  death. 
An  ancient  historian  tells  us  that,  at  the  siege  of 
Babylon,  Darius  condemned  to  the  cross  three  thousand 
captives.  Another  relates  how,  when  Alexander  in- 
flicted long-threatened  vengeance  on  Tyre,  he  crucified 
two  thousand  prisoners,  and  that  crosses  stood  on  her 
bloody  shores  thicker  than  ship  masts  in  her  crowded 
harbour.  And  when  the  Roman  let  fly  his  eagles  against 
Jerusalem,  Titus,  measuring  out  to  the  Jews  the  mea- 
sure they  had  meted  to  Jesus,  gave  them  crosses  enough, 
"  good  measure,  pressed  down  and  shaken  together,  and 


THE  RECONCILER.  381 


running  over."  A  spectator  of  the  scenes,  the  dreadful, 
tragic  scenes,  amid  which  Judah's  sun  set  in  blood  for 
ever,  tells  that  wood  was  wanting  for  crosses,  and 
crosses  were  wanting  for  bodies.  Yet  had  Babylon's, 
Tyre's,  Jerusalem's,  all  these  crosses  been  raised  to  save 
you,  and  on  each  cross  of  that  forest,  not  a  man,  but  a 
dying  angel  hung,  had  all  heaven  been  crucified,  here  is 
greater  love,  a  greater  spectacle.  God  commendeth 
his  love  toward  us,  in  that,  while  we  were  yet  sinners, 
Christ  died  for  us. 

Purchasing  our  peace  at  such  a  price,  God  has  done 
more  for  you  and  me  than  for  all  the  universe  besides. 
Creator  of  earth  and  heaven,  he  threw  suns  from  his 
hand  like  sparks  shot  from  the  fire,  and,  as  a  potter 
turns  off  clay  vessels  from  his  wheel,  he  fashioned  the 
worlds,  and  sent  them  away  spinning  in  their  orbits ;  but 
here  is  a  greater  work.  If  Nehemiah's  words  were  ever 
specially  appropriate  to  any  lips,  it  was  to  those  that 
maintained  unbroken  silence  amid  the  taunts  and  insults 
of  the  cross.  When  they  cried.  If  thou  be  the  Son  of 
God,  come  down  from  the  cross,  I  do  not  know  that  our 
Lord  so  much  as  felt  the  insult,  that  in  that  hour  it 
troubled  him.  It  might  be  but  a  pebble  flung  into  a 
storm-tossed  ocean,  adding  nothing  to  the  turmoil,  nor 
so  much  as  felt  amid  the  roar  and  swell  of  breakers. 
It  might  be  but  the  sting  of  a  miserable  insect  on  the 
cheek  of  one  who  bestrides  in  battle  a  fallen  friend,  his 
shield  ringing  with  blows,  and  his  flashing  blade  sweeping 
down  the  foe  around  him.  It  might  be  but  a  feather 
added  to  that  mountain  burden  of  sin  and  wrath  beneath 


382  THE  RECONCILER. 


whicli  Christ's  great  soul  was  bowing ;  yet,  had  it  pleased 
our  dying  Lord  to  answer  the  taunt,  I  can  fancy  him 
bending  from  the  cross  to  say,  "  I  am  doing  a  great 
work,  so  that  I  cannot  come  down;"  I  have  a  world  to 
save,  therefore  I  cannot  save  myself;  without  shedding 
of  blood  is  no  remission.  Poor  scoffer !  no  cross  for 
me,  no  crown  for  thee. 

Well  may  we  say  with  Moses,  I  will  turn  aside, 
and  see  this  great  sight.  What  spectacle  so  wonderful, 
so  affecting  ?  Behold,  how  he  loved  us !  Around  that 
cross  let  faith  fling  her  eager  joyful  arms.  Embrace  it. 
Oh !  clasp  it  with  more  than  a  lover's  ardour ;  in  life 
and  death,  cling  to  it  like  a  drowning  man,  whom  the 
waves  cannot  tear  from  his  hold. 

In  making  our  peace  with  God,  Christ  had  a  great 
work  to  do.  It  is  finished ;  and  ours,  like  his,  closes  not 
save  with  life.  We  may  sometimes  think  of  an  aged 
Christian  as  one  seated  on  the  bank  of  Jordan  in  the 
serene  evening  of  a  holy  life,  waiting  the  summons,  look- 
ing back  on  the  world  without  a  regret,  and  forward  into 
eternity  without  the  shadow  of  a  fear.  We  fancy  him, 
by  the  eye  of  faith,  piercing  the  thick  mists  that  hang 
over  death's  dark  flood,  and,  as  he  descries  the  "  shining 
ones  "  walking  on  the  other  shore,  we  fancy  him  stretch- 
ing out  his  eager  arms  and  crying.  Oh,  that  I  had  the 
wings  of  a  dove,  that  I  might  fly  away  and  be  at  rest !" 
But  the  picture  is  more  beautiful  than  true.  In  work- 
ing out  their  salvation  with  fear  and  trembHug,  in  carry- 
ing forward,  through  the  help  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  the 
work  of  sanctification,  God't;  people  will  feel  the  need  of 


THE  RECONCILER.  383 


watching  and  working  to  the  very  end.  The  corn 
shakes  when  it  is  ripe ;  the  fruit  drops  when  it  is  mel- 
low ;  the  Christian  dies  when  his  work  is  done.  I  see 
him,  as  a  soldier,  dying  in  harness,  fighting  on  to  the  very 
last  gasp ;  as  a  servant,  he  may  be  found,  up  to  the  very 
hour  of  his  Master's  coming,  putting  the  house  in  order. 
Though  the  more  work  done  now,  the  less  there  is  to  do 
at  a  less  suitable  time,  it  occasionally  happens  that  the 
death-bed  of  the  believer  is  the  scene  of  his  hardest  fight, 
and  of  Satan's  fiercest  temptations.  Nowhere  has  the 
roaring  of  the  lion  sounded  more  dreadful  than  in  the 
valley  of  the  shadow  of  death.  And  it  is  sometimes  with 
sin  as  with  the  monster  of  the  deep,  when  to  the  cry, 
"  Stern  all,"  the  men  who  have  buried  their  lances  in  its 
ample  sides,  seize  the  oars,  and  pull  rapidly  out  of  the 
sweep  of  that  tremendous  tail  that  beats  the  ocean  till  it 
sounds  afar,  and  churns  the  blood-stained  waves  into 
crimson  foam.  Men  of  undoubted  piety  have  found 
sin's  dying  to  be  sin's  hardest  struggles.  It  happens 
with  the  kingdom  of  heaven  as  with  a  city  the  violent 
take  by  force;  the  hardest  fighting  may  be  in  the 
breach,  the  battle  may  rage  fiercest  where  the  city  is 
entered,  and  just  when  the  prize  is  to  be  won. 

We  can  leave  the  cares  of  our  death  to  God  ;  our 
business  is  with  present  duty.  Our  work  is  not  finished, 
while  with  some  of  us  it  may  be  little  more  than  begun. 
And  I  may  address  the  most  advanced  and  aged 
Christian,  in  God's  words  to  Joshua,  Thou  art  old  and 
well  stricken  in  years,  and  yet  there  is  much  land  to  be 
possessed.      Sin  has  still  more  or  less  power  over  you, 


884  THE  RECONCILEK. 


and  it  should  have  none ;  your  corruptions  have  suffered 
a  mortal  wound,  but  they  are  not  dead :  your  affections 
rise  upward  to  heaven,  yet  how  much  are  they  held 
back  by  the  things  of  earth ;  though  your  heart  turns 
to  Christ,  like  the  compass  needle  to  the  pole,  how  easily 
is  it  disturbed,  how  tremblingly  it  points  to  him ;  your 
spirit  has  wings,  yet  how  short  are  its  flights,  and  how 
often,  Hke  a  half-fledged  eaglet,  has  it  to  return  to  its 
nest  on  the  Rock  of  Ages ;  your  soul  is  a  garden  where 
Christ  delights  to  walk  when  the  north  and  south 
winds  blow,  to  exhale  its  spices ;  yet  with  many  lovely 
flowers,  how  many  vile  weeds  grow  there.  With  a 
great  work  to  do,  and  little  time  to  do  it,  and  that  little 
most  uncertain,  there  is  much  need  to  work,  the  Spirit 
aidiug,  heaven  helping  us.  Work,  work  while  it  is  called 
to-day,  looking  for  your  rest  in  heaven.  Oh,  how  far 
short  is  our  holiness  of  the  holiness  of  heaven.  So  much 
imperfection,  so  many  infirmities  cleave  to  the  best  of 
us,  that  I  sometimes  think  that  a  change  must  take 
place  at  the  moment  of  death  second  only  to  that  at 
the  moment  of  conversion.  There  is  much  sin  to  be 
cast  off,  like  a  slough,  with  this  mortal  flesh.  Saw  we 
the  Spirit  at  its  departure,  as  Elisha  saw  his  ascending 
master,  we  might  see  a  mantle  of  infirmity  and  im- 
perfection dropped  from  the  chariot  that  bears  it  in 
triumph  to  the  skies.  I  have  thought  that  there  must 
be  a  mysterious  work  done  by  the  Spirit  of  God  in 
the  very  hour  of  death  to  form  the  crown  and  copestone 
of  all  his  other  labours  ;  and  that,  like  that  wondrous 
but  lovely  and  fragrant  plant  which  blows  at  midnight, 


THE  RECONCILER.  385 


grace  comes  out  in  its  perfect  beauty  amid  the  darkness 
of  the  dying  hour.  How  that  is  done  I  do  not  know. 
It  takes  one  whole  summer  to  ripen  the  fields  of  corn, 
and  five  hundred  years  to  bring  the  oak  to  its  full 
maturity.  But  He  at  whose  almighty  word  this  earth 
sprung  at  once  into  perfect  being,  with  loaded  orchards, 
and  golden  harvests,  and  clustering  vines,  and  stately 
palms,  and  giant  cedars,  man  in  ripened  manhood,  and 
woman  in  her  full-blown  charms,  is  able  in  the  twinkling 
of  an  eye,  ere  our  fingers  have  closed  the  filmy  orbs, 
or  we  have  stooped  to  print  one  fond  last  kiss  on  the 
marble  brow,  to  crown  the  work  his  grace  began.  With 
him  one  day  is  as  a  thousand  years,  and  a  thousand 
years  are  as  one  day.  He  shall  perfect  that  which  con- 
cerneth  you.  He  shall  bring  forth  the  headstone  thereof 
with  shoutings,  crying,  Grace,  grace  unto  it.     Now, 

THEKEFORE,  UNTO  HiM  THAT  IS  ABLE  TO  KEEP  YOU 
FROM  FALLING,  AND  TO  PRESENT  YOU  FAULTLESS  BEFORE 
THE  PRESENCE  OF  HiS  GLORY  WITH  EXCEEDING  JOY,  TO 
THE  ONLY  WISE  GOD  OUR  SaVIOUR,  BE  GLORY  AND 
MAJESTY,    DOMINION    AND    POWER,  BOTH  NOW  AND  EVER, 

Amen. 


DATE  DUE 

-Auwr- 

lyisss 

?■■• 

DEMCO  38-297                                                                                          1 

:i.i 


